Mine to Hate
by ErryCane
Summary: Draco gripped her arm tighter, his thumb brushing over her scar. Mudblood. "It sickened me," he whispered and leaned closer, "her doing this to you. You aren't hers to hate and do with as she pleases. You're mine to hate." "I'm not your anything, Malfoy." - Draco/Hermione. "Eighth Year" Hogwarts story. Rated M for later chapters.
1. Chapter 1 - Condemning

Hermione was wringing the hem of her shirt between her fingers nervously. She had just been called up to the witness stand and she could feel two sets of cold grey eyes boring into her. One set belonged to Lucius Malfoy who sat hunched over next to his defense in the front of the courtroom. The other belonged to Draco Malfoy who sat stoically beside his mother in the crowd. Draco's face was a mask of indifference but his eyes betrayed the hatred he felt as he stared at her openly. Mrs. Malfoy sat beside him, clutching his arm desperately as she had been all day. Her eyes were red and the skin around them swollen though she wasn't actively crying at the moment. Hermione quickly glanced away to the prosecution wizard pacing in front of her.

"Miss Granger, can you please recall for the court the last time that you saw the defendant?" the prosecution wizard had an aristocratic London accent and fine black velvet wizard's robes. He looked sympathetic when he was engaging Hermione but she had a not so sneaking suspicion that it was very artificial and his sympathetic act towards her was only for the benefit of the jury.

"It was during the Battle of Hogwarts, Sir," Hermione responded, doing her best to sound confident and unaffected. She trained her eyes resolutely on the wizard questioning her but she couldn't help but notice Draco's face in the crowd out of the corner of her eye. She felt something in her gut akin to guilt and she tried to squash it. She shouldn't feel guilty for testifying against Lucius Malfoy.

"And which side did the defendant fight for during the Battle of Hogwarts, Miss Granger?" the wizard questioned as he looked towards the crowd knowingly.

Hermione quickly glanced to Harry and Ron sitting in the front row of the crowd, they looked at her supportively. They both had just testified earlier that morning and both of their testimonies were pretty much in line with each other - Lucius Malfoy is death eater scum and deserves to rot in Azkaban. "He fought for Lord Voldemort, Sir."

The prosecution wizard continued down that line of questioning, asking her details of the final battle and pushing her for more information. It was all redundant and painful to rehash but she pressed on tirelessly through the questioning.

Finally he got around to asking her about her time in Malfoy Manor.

"It is to my understanding that you were apprehended by snatchers and taken to Malfoy Manor, the dark wizard Voldemort's lair during his rise to power, due to your association with Harry Potter and Ronald Weasley. Is this correct?" There was some murmurs of discomfort amongst the crowd as he uttered the word 'Voldemort'. She was suddenly very aware of the scar on her right arm, she could almost imagine that the word 'mudblood' was set aflame.

"Yes, Sir," she confirmed.

"And during your time at Malfoy manor, Lucius Malfoy appeared to be doing the dark lord's bidding? He was attempting to identify Mr. Harry Potter to present to the dark lord?"

"Yes, Sir," she confirmed.

"Did Lucius Malfoy appear to exhibit any of the traditional signs of a wizard under the influence of the Imperius curse designed to force someone to do another's bidding unwillfully?"

"No, Sir."

"Do you have any reason to believe that Lucius Malfoy was acting outside of the realm of his own will?" he pressed her for more information.

She hesitated. Her silence was deafening in the crowded room as everyone waited for her response. Her eyes flicked to Harry and Ron and they looked a little puzzled.

"Yes, Sir," she said and her voice cracked ever so slightly, enough to make her cheeks turn red.

"Are you saying you think that Lucius Malfoy may have been coerced by Voldemort and was not his willing and loyal follower as all of the evidence suggests?" the prosecution wizard asked with an obvious air of incredulity. Murmurs spread throughout the crowd and Lucius Malfoy shifted uncomfortably in his seat. He had been spending his time in Azkaban while he awaited trial and his gaunt frame and sunken eyes reflected that.

"I am saying that his home was taken over by Voldemort and his family was in jeopardy, hanging in the balance certainly, if he chose to disobey or act against Voldemort. He may not have been in a sound state of mind," she replied defensively and shifted in her seat haughtily as if she were back in class at Hogwarts.

"Sound state of mind or no, he willingly took up Voldemort's cause knowing the consequences and was devoted to him until it was convenient for him to abandon him moments before the dark lord's death?"

She couldn't deny that and she said tersely, "Yes, Sir."

"That is all, Miss Granger, you may return to your seat," he dismissed her and with a flick of his wand the small door to the witness stand popped open and she hopped gracefully off her seat and returned to Harry and Ron's side. Ron reached out and squeezed her hand in what he thought was a comforting gesture but she shook him off without making eye contact. She felt Draco boring holes into the back of her head from four rows behind her.

...

"I hope you aren't feeling guilty about throwing that tosser into Azkaban, 'Mione?" Ron questioned through a mouth full of mashed potatoes as they all gathered around the kitchen table at the burrow later that evening. Mrs. Weasley had whipped up some quick food for them when they returned from London and she promptly disappeared quickly back into her bedroom. Most of the Weasley's had been keeping to themselves after the final battle, they were still in shock and grieving.

Hermione, who was pushing food around her plate distractedly, looked up at Ron with a withering glare. "Of course not, Ronald."

"Well you did, sort of… you know, defend his actions up there today," Harry said. He wasn't judgemental but his tone was curious.

"I was not _defending his actions_ , Harry. I was under oath, I felt obliged to tell the truth. You can't say that Lucius wasn't feeling the pressure to protect Draco and Mrs. Malfoy. That coward would have disappeared into the nearest hidey hole when the dark lord moved his headquarters into Malfoy Manor if he didn't have his family to consider," she snapped back at Harry defensively.

Harry pushed his hair out of his face roughly and slumped over his dinner, they fell into a not uncomfortable silence but the space between the three of them seemed vast and painful.

"I'm sorry," Hermione whispered, barely audible.

"You don't have to be sorry, Hermione," Harry said and he reached out and squeezed her shoulder tight. He pulled her in for a rough hug and she allowed herself a small smile as she wrapped her arms around her old friend's neck. Ron stood up, his chair scraping against the old wood flooring and Hermione heard his loud clumsy footsteps approaching. His freckled arms wrapped around both of them and Hermione leaned sideways into his chest.

"We've been through hell and come out the other side, we can't let this battle define the rest of our lives," Harry said to them in the most encouraging voice he could muster and she heard a deep rumbling laugh come from Ron's chest briefly.

"Yeah," Ron agreed bitterly. They were all still in so much pain it was hard to imagine not dwelling on everything that had happened.

They disentangled from their hug and Hermione suddenly felt cold and alone.


	2. Chapter 2 - New Beginnings

_One month later_

Hermione burst through the barrier to Platform 9 ¾ with Crookshanks clutched tightly in her arms. A gust of air pushed her hair back from her face and she saw the Hogwarts express with startling clarity. She was going back. She let Crookshanks drop not-so-gracefully to the platform and the orange cat dashed off to board the train.

Harry and Ron promptly appeared behind her and urged her forward to clear the way for the next witch or wizard to come through.

"It's not too late to change your mind, Hermione," Harry said in a low voice near her ear, "you know that anyone in the wizarding world would be over the moon to snag Hermione Granger as an employee."

She shrugged him off, "I know, Harry, but I need to do things the proper way. You know I can't leave my education unfinished."

Ron rolled his eyes next to them as he pushed the cart carrying Hermione's trunk and most of her belongings towards the train. Harry and Ron both took positions at the ministry in the auror training program. Though they hadn't completed their education, it was widely accepted in the wizarding world that those who missed their last year at Hogwarts were off fighting in the war and were excused from having to take their N.E.W.T.s.

Hermione, however, was adamant about returning to Hogwarts to finish her education properly and score the highest marks in recent memory on all of her exams. Harry and Ron spent many days trying to talk her out of it, but she couldn't let her status as a war hero make her into some kind of celebrity. She wanted to finish what she had started.

Ron loaded her trunk onto the train quickly and returned to them, his face looked desperate and sad. "I'm going to miss you this year, Hermione."

"I'm going to miss you too, Ron, and you, Harry," she gave them both a quick peck on the cheek and she could tell by Ron's expression that he was hoping for more. Their relationship of recent had been tumultuous. When they were on the run from Voldemort they had one night of novice gropings and they both exchanged virginities while Harry was out of the tent on guard duty. It left Hermione feeling empty and incomplete the next morning when Ron didn't seem to want to talk about or acknowledge what had happened between them. Not long after that he had abandoned them in his horcrux induced rage.

They tried again over the summer shortly after the battle. Ron was mourning the death of Fred. Hermione was still staying at the burrow as she hadn't yet returned to Australia to retrieve her parents. Ron snuck into her room while Ginny was away staying at Luna's house one night. Their love making was quick and rough. She gave Ron the comfort that he needed and he took it, offering her nothing in return. The next day was very much the same as the first time in the fact that Ron didn't acknowledge what happened. This time Hermione refused to be the one to bring it up.

When Ron and Harry got accepted into the auror training program they approached Hermione eagerly, proposing that they all get an apartment together in Diagon Alley or Hogsmeade. It was then that Hermione informed them of her decision to return to Hogwarts. Harry was disappointed, but Ron was stricken. Ron refused to talk to her beyond the perfunctory small talk for a whole week. He complained endlessly all summer that she was abandoning them and being selfish. _Selfish_ , she though, _that is rich coming from Ron._

"Now Harry, don't get into too much trouble this year, I won't be around to bail you out like I usually do," she smiled warmly at him and gave him a tight hug. He wrapped his arms around her waist and lifted her up off the ground.

"God, I'll miss you. Try to uphold our memory at Hogwarts and get into as much trouble as possible," he grinned at her, setting her down. She laughed and turned to face Ron.

"Ron, take care of Harry," she smiled at him and then her smile faltered as she continued, "and take care of yourself too." She slipped her arms around him and he buried his face in her hair and squeezed her to his chest.

"I love you, Hermione," he whispered in her ear, too quiet for Harry to hear. Her heart stuttered and she squeezed her arms tighter. She loved him too, of course she did. But she couldn't bring herself to say it back, she didn't think that he meant it in the way of the purely platonic love such as the one between her and Harry.

They released each other and Ron was staring at her forlornly. "Write to us if you need anything, maybe we can even visit over the Christmas hols," Ron said hopefully.

"Yes, that would be lovely, Ron," she smiled assuredly at him. One last group hug and she marched off towards the train. She refused to look back and let them see the tears in her eyes threatening to spill over.

She climbed aboard and set off in search of an empty compartment to wallow in on the trip to Hogwarts. As she walked down the corridor, peaking quickly into each compartment to observe their contents the train suddenly lurched forward as it departed the station, she stumbled backwards two steps and into a tall, hard figure.

"Oh, I'm terribly sorry-" she started to say as she turned around, embarrassed. Her breathe caught in her throat as she turned to face a chest donned in a black dress shirt and smart, black jacket. Her eyes travelled up the figure to lock with a pair of cold grey eyes. "Malfoy," she managed to choke out, in shock. He was the last person she expected to return to Hogwarts.

"Mudblood," he acknowledged her as if that were her name. "You should really watch where you are going."

"Were you following me?!" she asked incredulously, stepping back and putting some much needed space in between them.

"I was simply walking to find a compartment, it's hardly my fault if you are too oblivious to notice an unsavory character trailing behind you," he leered at her and she self consciously pulled her sweater tighter around her. "What a cozy little send off you had with Potty and the Wonder Weasel," he bit out with venom. "Haven't they tired of you yet?" He took a menacing step towards her and she stumbled away.

"What are you doing, stalking me?" she huffed indignantly and a wave of relief flooded through her as she realized the next compartment was empty, she quickly darted inside and before she could lock the door he pushed in behind her. He tugged the blinds that offered a view back to the corridor down and closed them off from the world. "What are you playing at, Malfoy?" she hissed.

He didn't respond at first but merely cornered her in the compartment, a fiery and furious look in his eyes. She let her fingers inch towards her wand in the back pocket of her jeans as she was unsure how to handle Malfoy in this state. He seemed out of his head.

"My father is getting out, you know," he said with a callous smirk, pushing even closer towards her so they were only inches apart. He stooped his head to allow him to get closer to her face despite his much taller frame.

She audibly gasped and responded, "you've lost your mind, Malfoy, your father is going to be in Azkaban for the rest of his life."

He barked out a cruel laugh and shoved something into her hands roughly, she was shaking as she looked down at a copy of the Daily Prophet dated that morning. The words 'LUCIUS MALFOY RELEASED' flashed at the top of the page and a picture of an emaciated Lucius Malfoy being escorted from Azkaban by ministry officials accompanied the headline. Lucius looked almost ashamed in the picture as his form slinked along diminutively between the ministry wizards.

"Looks like your little display at his trial might have planted the seed of doubt. He was able to provide evidence against all his old pals, and the ministry in all of their infinite wisdom decided to release him," Draco hissed at her.

"You can hardly blame this on me," she looked up at him, stricken. He laughed in her face.

"I'm not blaming you, Mudblood. I'm simply letting you know that you may have had a helping hand. I thought that was something little do-gooders like you loved to hear? I thought you would be happy," he frowned mockingly and grabbed her upper arm to pull her forward. Their bodies weren't quite touching but his unbuttoned jacket brushed against the front of her sweater and she shivered involuntarily. She realized uncomfortably that she had never been this close to him, she had never been forced to face him like this. Sun poured into the small compartment as the train rattled along the tracks and reflected off his eyes, giving them a malicious glint.

"I'm sure you're pleased, then," she replied to him, trying to sound casual and undisturbed by their proximity.

"Pleased?" he bit out, "I hate the bastard." Draco had more venom in his voice than she had ever heard from him, even more than when he engaged in his routine spats with Harry and Ron. Her brows knit together and she looked into his eyes, confused and imploring. He released his grip on her upper arm, realizing he gave away too much of his inner thoughts to her. Something about her open nature had made him let his guard down.

He slipped out of the compartment wordlessly, leaving Hermione behind and gripping the copy of the Daily Prophet in her hands.


	3. Chapter 3 - Nightmares

Hermione pushed the food around her plate morosely. It didn't feel the same here without Harry and Ron. She sat at the Gryffindor table across from Ginny and Romilda Vane, a sixth year girl who Hermione found vapid and annoying. The head girl badge twinkled prominently on Ginny's robes and Hermione felt a small stab of jealousy. Of course she was offered the position of head girl after she wrote to McGonagall that she would be returning this year to Hogwarts, but she declined the offer. She felt almost as if she were an intruder at this point. The head girl badge belonged to someone who was more… present. Someone who belonged. Ginny deserved it this year, it was her true seventh year and Hermione knew that if she accepted she would be robbing Ginny of the opportunity. When Hermione saw Mrs. Weasley tearing up as Ginny showed off her head girl badge one morning at the burrow she knew she had made the right choice. It was Ginny's time to shine.

Ginny and Romilda were talking in hushed tones, gossiping about who from the other houses had deemed to return to Hogwarts for their "eighth year" as students had taken to calling it. Those who had either left school and never had a seventh year during the war or those that felt that their seventh year was incomplete due to the war.

Former professor and now Headmistress McGonagall extended an open invitation to anyone from Hermione's year that wished to stay at Hogwarts or return, but not many took up that offer. A few Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs returned for their eighth year. However, from Gryffindor and Slytherin it looks like only Hermione and Draco took up the offer to return.

The Slytherin table appeared nearly devoid of life, many parents who were involved with Voldemort's cause pulled their children from school and fled the country after the fall of the dark lord.

Hermione let her eyes trail over the great hall, trying desperately to remember happy times but somehow failing. Soon her eyes settled on Draco, he was hunched over his plate, his brow was furrowed and his expression led her to believe he was deep in thought. Maybe he was regretting returning to Hogwarts, Hermione often found herself wondering why he even returned at all since their encounter on the train. What was in it for him?

As if he sensed her eyes on him, he looked up and their gazes met. Surprisingly he wasn't looking at her with his normal hostile expression, but he looked rather lost. Just hopeless. His eyelids were heavy, dark circles framed his eyes, and his mouth was set in a grim line.

Something about the emotional response this evoked in her caused her to look away sharply and clench her fork a little tighter. She had empathized with Draco Malfoy in that moment. She recognized that look all too well because it was the same expression she saw every morning when she worked up the courage to look in the mirror.

Hermione nearly jumped out of her skin when she felt the Headmistress's reassuring hand fall into her shoulder as she approached the table, "Miss Granger, might I have a word with you in my office when you've finished your dinner?"

"Yes, of course Ma'am. I think I'm done now, I can come with you," she abruptly stood from the table and gathered up a few of the books she had brought to dinner with her. She trailed after McGonagall in silence until they reached her office.

"How have you been doing, dear?" The Headmistress smiled warmly as she settled down behind her desk once they reached her office. She pushed a small plate of lemon drops towards Hermione in a gesture of offering. Hermione thought that this must be her small tribute to Albus Dumbledore, a way to keep his memory alive and fresh.

"As good as to be expected, Professor." Hermione said softly, "and yourself?"

"Hanging in there," she responded with a warm mothering expression that Hermione was surprised to see. "I wanted to talk to you about Draco Malfoy," McGonagall started with a somber tone and Hermione found herself tense up at his name. "I know it's only been a week into the term and the two of you have been through more than anyone should in the past year. But I wanted to implore you to reach out to him. I am concerned that he spends all of his time alone. Dumbledore risked a great deal to try and save that boy's soul and I don't want to see that sacrifice go to waste."

"Of course, Ma'am," Hermione responded slowly, "what do you suggest I do? Draco and I aren't exactly close friends."

"No, you have the right of it there, Hermione. However, his mother's trial starts next week and a lot of the Malfoy assets have been frozen. They have struggled putting together a good legal time after his father's very expensive trial. Draco has spent the past week working in the library into the late hours of the morning, trying to help put together a case for his mother."

"A case for Mrs. Malfoy? Surely they can't hold her accountable for Lucius' actions…"

"No, they can't," McGonagall confirmed, "but they are trying to link her with the many atrocities of Bellatrix Lestrange. With Bellatrix dead there is a lot of death and destruction that the ministry wants to hold someone accountable for. Someone living. As Mrs. Lestrange's blood sister, Narcissa Malfoy is an appealing target."

"So you are suggesting that I help Draco? With his mother's trial," Hermione asked incredulously. She highly doubted that Malfoy would accept help from her of all people, especially with something so personal.

"I am suggesting that Draco Malfoy needs someone, someone who knows the difference between right and wrong, at this stage in his life. I am merely presenting to you an opportunity to guide and help him, you can do with this information what you will," McGonagall said and Hermione could swear that she saw a Dumbledore-esque twinkle in her eye.

Hermione shifted in her seat uncomfortably, she mulled the idea over and regretfully, she agreed with McGonagall. Draco was painfully, starkly, and unequivocally alone.

Hermione found herself wandering towards the library that evening about an hour before curfew, her palms sweaty and her stomach unsettled. She knew that Malfoy was sure to reject her offer for help, but she had to at least try for McGonagall.

Her feelings towards Malfoy had been mixed ever since the end of the war. She knew that Draco wasn't evil at heart, but remembering the first time she had caught a glimpse of his dark mark gave her chills. They were fundamentally different people. She recalled the time that Harry had tried to convince her and Ron that Malfoy was inducted as a death eater and she thought he was crazy. If only she had known then what she knew now.

When she arrived at the library it was mostly dark, a few candles illuminated the main study area. There was no obvious sign of Malfoy here. Madame Pince seemed the be the only soul in sight, she was busily going through some books at her desk and she curtly nodded at Hermione as she entered.

Hermione walked past the tables and entered the rows of books. She inhaled deeply and a small smile came to her face. She had missed the library more than anything else about Hogwarts. When she was here it felt like only yesterday that she was studying furiously for her sixth year exams.

She heard some papers rustling as she got towards the back of the library, just at the border of the restricted section. Tucked away at a small table in an alcove with a window that overlooked the lake was Draco Malfoy.

He had tossed aside his school jumper and it was draped over the chair opposite of him. His shoulders were tensed as he was hunched over a massive volume on wizarding law. His white oxford was stretched taut over his broad shoulders and he looked tense and uncomfortable, though he had clearly been settled into this table for quite some time. There were books scattered across the small table top and stacked next to him on the floor.

It was then that she noticed his sleeves were rolled up carelessly and she saw it. His dark mark. It stood out so starkly against his pale skin that she nearly gasped. As if on cue he sensed her presence and his head whipped around. His eyes bore into her, narrowed and cold.

"What do you want, Mudblood?" he hissed defensively as if she had just walked into his private quarters.

She was lost for words for a moment, what was she supposed to tell him? He would, without a doubt react defensively and with suspicion to anything she said. Best to go with the truth.

"I… McGonagall told me that you had been working on a case for your Mother's trial," she responded and his eyes narrowed even further.

"And?" he drawled, "have you come to mock me? Come to shame me and my criminal parents?"

"No, not at all," she said hurriedly. Not sure why she cared so much what he thought about her intentions. "I thought you might want some help." She kicked herself at how meek and unsure she sounded.

His reaction was not what she expected, he barked out a cold laugh and stood to face her. "Help? From you?" He closed the space between them in two long strides until he was looking down at her, her back to a bookshelf. "Why would I want your help?"

"Because you don't have anyone else," she responded immediately without thinking.

"And what do you know about me, Granger?" At least he had stopped calling her Mudblood, that was an improvement.

"I know you're alone. I know your father has gone into hiding after he ratted out all his old buddies. I know your mother is in Azkaban awaiting her trial. I know that all your little Slytherin friends have tucked their tails between their legs and ran." She was talking low out of respect for the library, but her words were heated and vehement. She resisted the urge to poke her finger into his chest to emphasize her point.

"You don't know shit, Granger. You don't know shit about me or my friends or my family," his face was contorted with barely restrained fury.

"Just let me help you, Malfoy. After everything we've both been through a little inter-house unity would go a long way," her voice was calmer and more resigned. Her eyes searched his face for any sign that he would yield and back down.

"Do whatever you want," he said dismissively, his tone had calmed along with hers and he stepped back a fraction of a step. "I bet you love this, seeing my family's fall from grace."

"I don't delight in other's pain, Malfoy. That would make me no better than the people I fought against last year."

"People like me?" he bit back at her. The self-hatred was painfully evident in his voice.

"No, you aren't like them," she studied him, his body language was guarded and tense.

"Like I said, Granger, you don't know shit about me." He sulked back to the table and sank into the chair. He sighed heavily and shoved his left hand through his hair, pushing it back roughly. His dark marked flashed in front of her again and she found it interesting that he wouldn't attempt to cover it up in front of her. Maybe it was his way of attempting to scare her off.

She settled hesitantly in the chair opposite him at the small table and set down her bag on the floor in the small space she could find not cluttered with law books.

"What are they charging her with?" she asked hesitantly.

"What _aren't_ they charging her with?" he responded snapping closed the book he was previously hunched over. "They are throwing the book at her. Everything Bellatrix did they are trying to link her to. Murder, mutilation… torture." The last word hung heavily in the air. Hermione's right hand unconsciously went to grip her left arm where her scar was and her heart clenched in her chest.

Draco's eyes followed her hand and she heard him swallow.

"You're mother didn't do this," she said in a whisper.

"You don't think I know that?" he said, voice strained. There was a tense awkwardness between them that was palpable in the air they breathed. "Can I see it?"

She looked at him from across the table, shocked. No one had ever asked to see it before. Hell, Harry and Ron never even mentioned it since the incident. Though she knew Ron felt guilty, he felt responsible for letting it happen to her. The two times they had been naked together he purposefully avoided looking at her arm, and she didn't bother to bring it up. She pushed those thoughts out of her mind.

She shrugged out of her sweater and lay it on the back of her chair on top of the jumper that Draco had already discarded there. She laid her left arm on the table between them and tugged up the sleeve of her shirt revealing the scar. He studied her, his face was a mask and she couldn't discern what he was thinking.

"You know I saw you," he said in a low voice, his eyes still fixed on her arm. "I saw her torturing you. I didn't do anything to stop it. To stop her."

"There was nothing you could have done-"

"Don't," he cut her off, "don't defend my actions, Granger. I saw her torturing you and I did nothing." Much to her surprise he reached out and grasped her arm. Her skin felt aflame where his hand touched her. She was surprised to notice that his hands were rough and calloused, most likely from Quidditch. She had always imagined that he would have soft and delicate hands. Not that she spent much time thinking about his hands.

Draco gripped her arm tighter, his thumb brushing over her scar. Mudblood. "It sickened me," he whispered and leaned closer, "her doing this to you. You aren't hers to hate and do with as she pleases. You're mine to hate."

"I'm not your anything, Malfoy," she snatched her hand back roughly and his hand lingered where it held her arm for just a second.

His eyes finally moved to her face with a pained expression, "since I met you I've defined myself in relation to you. I was evil to your good. You are so fucking innocent. Even after everything you've been through, you still have this air of innocence about you. Like that war didn't touch you," his eyes drifted back to her arm, though she pulled her hand away her scar was still visible to him, "and then that _cunt_ had to put her mark on you. And I hated it. I fucking hated it, Granger."

She stared at him in stunned silence.

"In that moment, I felt so possessive of you. How dare that bitch lay her hands on _my_ nemesis." His fists were clenched now and she could see the muscles in his jaw strain with tension. When he said the word 'possessive' she felt an uncomfortable warm feeling in her stomach.

Though he was just sitting across the small table from her, he suddenly felt miles away. He was a mystery to her. One minute he is calling her mudblood and the next he is furious about the injustice done to her.

"It isn't your fault, Malfoy," she said in her best reassuring voice.

"Yeah well that won't erase it from my memory. That won't erase the fucking screams from my memory," his eyes were back to hers and he had a pained expression on his face. "I've had nightmares about your screams, I've had nightmares that I was the one carving 'Mudblood' into your skin as you writhed in pain. Isn't that fucked up?"

She didn't respond. She just shifted in the chair, suddenly aware of how uncomfortable it was. How uncomfortable she was.

"I should go, it's almost time for the library to close. I suggest you do the same." She quickly gathered up her bag and her sweater and hurried past him back towards the rows of books to make her escape. He caught her left arm as she swept by him and halted her. His hand wasn't tight around her forearm and she could have quickly tugged it free if she wanted to, but she paused and looked at him.

"I'm sorry," he whispered not looking at her but looking straight ahead of him towards the window overlooking the lake. He dropped her arm and she practically ran out of the library without a word.

When she made it to the corridor she found that she was breathing heavily and her heart was threatening to pound out of her chest. She stopped to catch her breath and she tugged her sleeve back down, her hand shaking.


	4. Chapter 4 - Warning

It soon came to pass that Hermione joined Draco in the evenings pouring over ancient wizarding law books, attempting to find anything that could help his mother's case. Hermione usually arrived after dinner to a Draco who was already deeply engrossed in his research. He would offer her a curt nod and she would settle in opposite of him and start going over the books she was able to dig up herself.

They didn't talk much, all of their recent conversations had been tense and too revealing for Draco's taste so they reached a silent agreement that they would avoid conversation. Every once in awhile she would feel his eyes on her and she did her best to concentrate on her task, refusing to look up and meet his gaze.

On Thursday evening before the trial was to begin Hermione thought she might have made a breakthrough. The evening was approaching the closing time for the library and both of them were stiff from sitting in the harsh wooden chairs all evening. Draco had once again rolled up his sleeves, revealing his mark and his pale forearms. Hermione had discarded her jumper and was in a casual muggle tshirt with her hair tied up in a messy bun. Despite the warm outside temperatures Madame Pince had just stoked one of the fireplaces in the library and it was sweltering.

"I think I've found something" she whispered and shoved the large volume she was examining across the table to Malfoy. He looked up at her lazily, his face not betraying any emotion. "You see here? At the bottom of the page, it details a case from 1850. Two brothers went on a murderous rampage across the Irish countryside, killed a dozen muggles. The younger brother was exonerated because there was no proof he actually committed any of the crimes." She looked at him expectantly, watching his eyes dart back and forth as he skimmed the page.

"You think this is precedent for them letting my mother go?" he questioned, arching an elegant eyebrow.

"Well, yes. There is no proof she did anything or assisted Bellatrix with any of her crimes. They don't have evidence on her because it doesn't exist."

"And you're so sure of that, Granger?" he shifted his gaze from the book up to her face.

"Well is there something you know that you aren't sharing?" she pressed.

"No," he responded crisply, "but our advocate hasn't advised yet what evidence the prosecution is putting forward yet."

"Okay well, this is a start," she responded weakly, disappointed by his uninterested reaction.

"Why do you even want to help, Granger? Don't you want someone to pay for what was done to you?" he looked up at her with tired eyes.

"Bellatrix did this, Malfoy. Now she is dead. That is all the closure I need. I don't want to see an innocent person in Azkaban for crimes they didn't commit."

He let out a cruel laugh, "my mother is hardly innocent. She served tea to the fucking dark lord, she hosted that vile wretch in our home."

"Serving tea isn't a crime, Malfoy," she said quietly. They both knew that Mrs. Malfoy didn't exactly have a choice in the matter, so there was no point in her mentioning it. Now that she was finally looking at him closely she felt her stomach twist with pity. His eyes were sunken and he looked like he had lost weight over the summer despite gaining a few inches in height in the past two years.

"Malfoy have you been eating," she questioned and shifted her body forward to get a closer look at him.

"Of course," he snapped defensively and recoiling from her.

"Really? Because I rarely see you in the great hall at meal times. When you are there, you barely touch your plate," she countered.

"It warms my heart that you are so concerned," he replied sarcastically, "have you been keeping tabs on me, Granger?"

"No, I just thought-"

"Well don't think. Just don't even look at me outside of the library. I really don't want anything to do with you. The only reason I even tolerate your presence here in the evenings is because I need your help," he bit out.

"You don't have to be such an ass, Malfoy," she said, her mouth going pinched, leaning back in her chair.

"Yes, I do. You seem to think I am going to be like Potty and Weasel, kissing the ground you walk on because you've helped me with my homework. Don't think we are going to be best friends. Granger."

"Don't talk about Harry and Ron," she hissed, suddenly furious with him. He should know better than to go there.

"Oh, sensitive subject, Granger? Are you still waiting around for Weasel like the perfect little Gryffindor virgin?" he leered at her, raising his eyebrows. "Or worse, he did make a move and realized you weren't anything special?" His trademark Malfoy smirk graced his features for the first time since they had returned to Hogwarts. She wanted so badly to slap it clear off his face.

In that moment she hated herself more than anything as she felt tears sting the back of her eyes. She quickly grabbed her bag and ran out of the library before she could give Malfoy the satisfaction of seeing her cry.

The next morning at breakfast Hermione once again sat across from Ginny, pushing food around her plate.

"You alright, Hermione?" Ginny asked her with a compassionate tone and Hermione hated Ginny for being so observational.

"Alright," she responded, "you know how it is, some days are worse than others."

Ginny reached across the table and gave Hermione's hand a squeeze, looking at her reassuringly. Hermione suddenly felt stricken with guilt for not spending more time with the younger girl since they had returned. She couldn't imagine what Ginny was going through since the death of her brother and Hermione felt like a total ass.

Suddenly a large barn owl swooped down on the table and deposited two letters in front of Hermione. The two girls jumped apart and Ginny quickly tended to her own mail. Hermione could tell one of Ginny's letters was from Harry as the red head's eyes lit up.

Hermione looked over her two envelopes. The first was from the ministry, the second from Ron. She identified Ron's sloppy handwriting on the letter before she even had to open it to know it was from him.

She opened the ministry letter first.

 _Ministry of Magic vs. Malfoy, Narcissa_

 _Docket No. 67832_

 _Please be advised that your testimony is required at the trial of the above case. Be at the Ministry of Magic, Wizengamot, 3rd floor on September 14th. Your attendance is required at any recessed or adjourned date of the proceedings._

Hermione's eyes darted up and quickly met with Draco's. Judging by his expression he knew what the letter she held was in regards to. He quickly gathered his things and exited the hall looking unhinged. Hermione, for a brief second, thought to go after him, but what could she say?

With shaking hands she opened the letter from Ron and pulled forth a crumped parchment.

 _Hermione,_

 _Me and Harry just got summons for Mrs. Malfoy's trial which begins next week. I'm assuming you'll have one as well by the time this letter reaches you. I can't wait to see you next week. Miss you lots._

 _Ron_

She clutched the parchment in her hand, dissapointed. She wasn't sure what she was expecting from him, but this wasn't it. Ginny was still engrossed in her letter from Harry and rather than disturbing her, Hermione silently got up and headed for the entrance hall. As she was walking back towards the Gryffindor common room she ran into Draco Malfoy heading in the direction of the library.

He grabbed her arm wordlessly and dragged her into an empty classroom.

"Did you get called to testify?" he hissed, quietly shutting the door behind them.

"Yes, Malfoy, we both knew that was a likely possibility." She crossed her arms over her chest and looked at him expectantly, not sure why he dragged her in here. He looked frantic and desperate.

"What are you going to say up there?" his voice was sharp and distrustful.

"The truth, Malfoy. Whatever they ask me, I'll tell the truth."

"Of course you will," he was pacing in front of her now.

"Is that all?" she said, inching towards the door.

"No," he snapped, halting his pacing and looking at her. He moved his body between hers and the doorway, blocking her exit.

"Yes?" she questioned, wishing he would get to the point.

"I'm scared, Granger," he choked out in a harsh whisper. She stared at him, shocked. Why would he admit that to her of all people? "I'm fucking scared."

"Malfoy, they don't have anything on your mother," she responded, trying to keep her voice steady.

"We don't know that yet, they could dig something up on her. Merlin knows they could dig things up on me if they tried. Who knows what the dark lord coerced her into doing in the dark corners of Malfoy Manor?" He looked manic.

"That's the point though, isn't it? Coercion. She wasn't acting of her own will. Not when Voldemort's wand is pointed at her head."

"You don't even know the half of it, Granger. He didn't even have to imperio us, we obeyed him willingly," he stepped closer to her, a pained expression marring his features. "You don't know what I've even done, and yet you're standing here in front of me, trying to reassure me. Why do you give a fuck?"

"I don't know what you did Malfoy, but I don't think that you would have willingly hurt someone," she inched back trying to put some space in between them and the back of her thighs scraped against a desk letting her know she had no more room.

"I raped her," he whispered, his expression contorted into a blank mask devoid of emotion.

Hermione swallowed, her mouth suddenly dry, "...raped who?"

"Pansy," he responded, advancing on her. "I wasn't under the imperius curse. I just did it because he commanded me. Did you wonder why she hadn't returned this year? She is busy picking up the fucking pieces of her life. She doesn't ever want to face me again."

Hermione stared at him blankly, she didn't have it in her to react to this information.

"The dark lord told me to claim her in front of everyone. And I did. Fuck. I mean we had fucked before, casually. We sought comfort in each other when we had no one else. But this was so fucked. She fucking fought me, I had to… fuck, I had to hold her down. Eventually she gave up and just laid there, staring past me at the ceiling."

"What were you supposed to do, Malfoy? Disobey him and die?" Hermione asked in a gentle voice, not wanting to set him off.

"I should have. That would have been the right thing to do but I'm a fucking coward."

"You had no choice," she whispered.

"Why the fuck do you defend me?! I've just told you I raped one of my best friends and you are sitting here trying to make me feel better about it. Could you be any more delusional?" He looked at her unbelievingly.

"You had to do horrible things to survive in the war. If you want to hate yourself for all eternity, then go ahead. I'm trying to tell you, you have to move on." She reached out and laid a hand on his shoulder in her best attempt at comfort. He closed his eyes and for a second she thought she had softened him and then he shook her hand off. Her arm fell uselessly to the side.

"Would you have done it? Hurt one of your best friends? Totally and completely degraded them in front of a crowd of death eaters because he told you to? Or would you have died?" he searched her face for the truth.

She didn't respond, averting her eyes.

"Of course," he whispered, brushing a tendril of hair back from her face. His fingers skimmed her cheek and she looked up at him, eyes wide. She realized that her chest was only a centimeter away from his. His knees came close to knocking into her own. "Perfect fucking mudblood Granger would never do anything to hurt her friends even if it meant her own life. Well I guess you're better than me."

"I never said-"

"You don't have to. Its written all over your face. You think I'm some sort of project for you. You want to save my fucking soul like Dumbledore tried to," he grasped her chin roughly and she gasped as he wrenched her face up to look at him. "Well, you don't want to end up like him, do you?"

"Is that a threat, Malfoy?" she whispered curiously.

"No, it's a warning."


	5. Chapter 5 - Warming

On Saturday Hermione managed to avoid Draco, she kept to the Gryffindor common room finishing up some homework and trying to learn the finer points of wizarding chess from Ginny, though she was hopeless at it.

As the evening rolled around Hermione found herself curled up with a book in front of the fire in the common room. She felt a guilty pull in the pit of her stomach that was urging her to go to the library. She couldn't face him, after he humiliated her first in the library and then tried to intimidate her in that empty classroom. She felt the ghost of his hand when it grasped her chin and she shuddered. The scariest part is that she wasn't entirely sure she was shuddering with revulsion. His hollow eyes bore into her face in the most uncomfortable way, not even Ron had ever looked at her like that.

Maybe Draco was right, maybe she did view him as a project. Project Ensure Draco is Saved. PEDIS. No, that wouldn't do at all. It was far too close to _penis_. She stifled a quiet laugh to herself. Well, either way she had to at least clear her head this weekend, alone. She was spending a disturbing amount of her free time thinking about Draco lately and she needed to live her life and stop neglecting her friends. She resolved to pen letters to Harry and Ron this evening and have some quality girl time with Ginny and the other Gryffindor girls.

She felt a strange feeling of dread when she thought about seeing Ron on Tuesday. She was sure he was still peeved at her for returning to school. She was also confused about his feelings towards her, and she didn't want to be forced to think about it by his proximity. This year so far had almost been a breath of fresh air being without the other two members of the golden trio. She loved Harry and Ron of course, but she felt for the first time that she could truly be herself at Hogwarts and not have to worry about taking care of them.

 _So of course you find someone else to take care of_ , her pesky inner voice whispered to her.

Monday rolled around quickly and before she knew it she was seated in the back of the potions classroom next to Ginny listening to Professor Slughorn talk about the finer points of Felix Felices. A lot of the lessons were repeats from her sixth year, but as Slughorn was limited in what he was allowed to teach last year, this was all new to the current seventh years.

Hermione found herself staring at the back of Draco's head in a manner she hoped was not obvious. He was hunched over a piece of parchment two rows in front of her and to the left of the classroom, scribbling idly. She could tell he was not taking notes, of course he would have remembered all of this from his sixth year as well. The profile view of his face made it look even more angular and sharp than normal and his pale skin seemed to glow in the dim light of the potions dungeon. Her eyes slipped down to his hands, the long elegant fingers of his right hand gripping his quill, and she felt herself shiver. _It must be drafty in the dungeons today_ , she told herself.

When her eyes made there way back up to his face their eyes locked and she almost gasped. He smirked and turned his head back to his paper, she could see the smirk still playing at the corner of his lips as he went back to doodling.

Hermione looked to her own piece of parchment in front of her and her cheeks turned a rather furious shade of red.

"Where you just checking out Malfoy?" Ginny hissed in a quiet, breathy giggle.

She didn't think it was possible, but Hermione turned an even deeper shade of red, "No, I was not checking him out," she whispered back fervently. "I was just… thinking, you know, I'm helping him with his mother's trial. So he has been on my mind."

Ginny's smile turned devious, "on your mind, huh?" she turned her attention to the front of the class, still smiling.

"Oh stop it, Ginny," Hermione rolled her eyes.

"Listen, I know my prat of a brother isn't stepping up to the plate, so I don't blame you for broadening your horizons…" Ginny started in a teasing tone and Hermione whacked her arm with her quill and to her own surprise, cracked a smile of her own.

"Trust me, my horizons would never get that broad," she retorted.

As Slughorn wound down his lecture and dismissed them, Hermione gathered up her things and urged Ginny to head on without her. Ginny winked saucily at her and left the classroom, her long, vivid red hair swinging behind her.

Hermione felt a presence behind her after the rest of their classmates left the classroom and she didn't have to turn around to know it was Draco. Professor Slughorn was tottering around down at the front of the class but she knew he was eavesdropping on them.

"Hermione," he breathed quietly, in a tone that begged her to turn around and look at him. She almost hated that he used her first name just then, it implied a certain _intimacy_. She took a deep breath and slowly turned on her heel, leaning back against her desk in an attempt to assume a casual posture.

He stood rooted to the spot about a foot from where she was, "I'm sorry," he said quietly.

"For what?" she asked innocently.

"You know for what," he bit sharply. She rolled her eyes and began to turn to gather her things again, she didn't have the patience for his fake apologies.

"Wait," he took a half a step towards her and it looked like he was going to reach out to her but he thought better of it and dropped his hand. "I'm actually really sorry. You've been helping me, and I just lashed out at you."

She arched an eyebrow, surprised to hear a genuine apology from his lips. "You are forgiven, Malfoy," she said with sincerity and the short sentence was heavy and loaded, hanging in the air between them.

He sighed and his tense shoulders relaxed, "Will you come back to the library tonight? I've been going crazy this weekend trying to work out some last minute defense by myself. I've only got one more night before the trial begins tomorrow."

"I don't know, Malfoy, you did warn me to stay away from you the other day," she responded apprehensively.

"I said I was sorry okay?" his words were getting more heated but he tried to keep his voice low so Slughorn couldn't hear everything they were saying. "I need you… I need your help. Whether we find anything or not it will keep me from going insane, to have someone there."

She was struck speechless at his confession. She altogether did not like her body's reaction to his words, when he said "I need you," an uncomfortable warm feeling blossomed in her stomach. She didn't feel comfortable standing so close to this version of Draco who was actually being open and genuine.

"Okay," she squeaked out and internally kicked herself for sounding so meek.

He smirked and crossed his arms, self assured and confident once again, "Great, see you tonight." With that, he quietly exited the potion's classroom leaving her standing there and feeling like a complete idiot. She cursed under her breath and gathered her things and slipped out of the room as well. Professor Slughorn continued busting about at the front of the classroom, gathering up supplies, and whistling merrily to himself with a knowing smile.

Hermione slipped into the back of the library at her usual time, Draco was already there toiling away, having skipped dinner again. Hermione quietly placed a buttered dinner roll and still warm meat pie next to the book he was engrossed in on the table. She had smuggled the items out of the great hall rolled up in a napkin and she felt overwhelmingly guilty sneaking food into the library. She knew that Draco would need to eat something tonight because he certainly wouldn't be eating in the morning before his mother's trial.

Draco glanced at the offering she had placed on the table and he looked up at her, shocked. "Granger, are you breaking rules? For me of all people?" he admonished her with a smirk and bit into the dinner roll.

"Yeah well, don't get used to it," she said in a huff and plopped down into the chair opposite him, as was becoming their routine. She settled in and cracked open the next book in Draco's pile. They sat in a comfortable silence for about an hour, Draco had finished up his snack and the silence was distractingly unbearable.

"Did I catch you checking me out in potions today, Granger?" he broke the silence, but his eyes were still locked on the page in front of him, pretending to read as a smirk tugged the corners of his mouth.

"You most certainly did not," she said hotly. That pesky blush was creeping up her cheeks again.

"It's okay, Granger, I know my devilish good looks would tempt you eventually," he reassured her, now in a full out grin, "I just didn't think it would be so quickly." For a moment he looked like the cocky and pompous kid he was before sixth year and Hermione felt a pang in her heart, melancholy over the simpler times before the dark lord ruined their lives.

She huffed indignantly, "I am not tempted by anything about you, Malfoy," she rolled her eyes. "You're the one who said you needed me!"

The cocky look faded from his face and he finally raised his eyes to meet hers. The hollow and broken look that she had become accustomed to see adorning his features was back and it took her off guard. "I know," he said in a low, deep voice. "I didn't want to push you away. Well at least, anymore than I already had done."

"So you just said that to guilt me into helping you," she retorted.

"If you are here out of guilt, then feel free to go." He leaned back in the chair and she could see the tension in his shoulders and the crease of his brow.

"No," she replied in an almost whisper, "It's not guilt."

"Then what?" he questioned softly.

"Friendship? We've known each other half our lives. You're a prat but you don't deserve what you've been through."

At the word "friendship" a look of disgust flashed across his face and she hated the way her stomach dropped in response to his revulsion.

"Yeah, sorry Malfoy, forget it," she said embarrassedly and quickly began to gather her things to run out of there yet again.

"No," he whispered and leaned forward to stop her when he realized she intended to leave, "it's not that… it's… well, I feel sorry for you actually, if you think we are friends." At that she felt fury rising in her throat but before she could respond he slumped in the chair pathetically and continued, "I used to think I was better than you, but you are so beyond me it's not even a comparison. My family and I have been dragged through the mud, you don't want to weigh yourself down by letting me into your life."

She sank back uncomfortably and stared at him, unsure of what to say, feeling that warm feeling spreading in her stomach again. "You think I care about your reputation? I know you aren't evil, Malfoy. I know your mom helped Harry and risked her own life just to see you again. I know you could have easily identified Harry at Malfoy Manor that night we were abducted by snatchers, but you hesitated. You didn't want to. I see good in you, even though it's buried deep down."

"Very deep down," he replied sardonically.

"We should get to bed, we have a long day ahead of us, Malfoy," she said, trying to use her best reassuring tone that she normally reserved for when Ron and Harry were worried about an exam.

"Mine or yours?" he said and his trademark smirk was back gracing his features, but she knew his eyes looked empty behind his facade.

She rolled her eyes and ignored his comment, "Mcgonagle said that we can use the floo in her office to get to the ministry tomorrow morning. So I'll see you then?" They both stood to leave.

"Yeah," he said distractedly and as she began to walk by him to exit the library, he stood in front of her to stop her momentarily, "thanks, Granger."

She suddenly felt the overwhelming need to hug him, to reassure him, to do _anything_. Instead she replied with a simple, "try to get some sleep tonight, Malfoy," and brushed past him towards the exit.

She left him standing there, facing the window overlooking the lake which was twinkling in the moonlight and he felt more cold and alone than ever. His breathing was shallow and he reached up to grasp his left forearm absent mindedly.


	6. Chapter 6 - Mess of a Malfoy

Hermione quickly silenced the alarm she had set on her wand to wake her up this sleepy Tuesday morning. The sun was not yet up and as she relaxed back into her pillows it took her a second to realize why she had set such an early alarm. Tuesday. The first day of Narcissa Malfoy's trial at the ministry. She felt a nervous sensation in her chest and she was trying to convince herself that her anxiety was being blown out of proportion.

Hermione, Harry, and Ron had given dozens of testimonies at death eater trials over the summer, why should this one be any different? _Because of Draco_ , her inner voice said callously and she knew it to be true. She had strangely started to care what happened to Draco, and by extension his mother. She didn't personally believe that Mrs. Malfoy deserved to be in Azkaban, especially when her slimey husband was set free and quickly scampered off into hiding.

She quickly slunk off towards the dormitory showers to have a rinse before the long day. As she lathered up she realized that her thoughts this morning were entirely consumed by Draco, and not Ron. Well at least the trial and her tenuous friendship with Draco was providing her a distraction, if nothing else. She knew that things weren't going to work out between her and Ron. Even if Ron had gotten up the courage to ask her out on an actual date rather than just clumsily shag her in the middle of the night with tears brimming in his eyes, they weren't meant to be. She saw that more clear than ever now that they had spent some time apart. He didn't have the drive and passion that she needed, he was more than happy to just tag along with Harry and live up to his public persona as the Boy Wonder's Sidekick.

She stepped out of the shower, magically dried her hair and body and quickly examined herself in the mirror before getting dressed. She only felt comfortable walking around the bathroom naked at this hour when she knew none of the other girls were up, so she might as well take advantage of the moment of privacy. She had matured physically over the past few years, her slight, boyish hips filling out and becoming more of a womanly curve. Her breasts finally decided to make an appearance, not that she ever wore clothes that would hint at their existence. She felt more confident in her woman's body, even though she rarely showed it off - it gave her a sense of empowerment.

Pulling on her clothes, a simple pair of dark wash jeans, a deep maroon sweater, and tasteful black robes, she applied some lotion to her face and appraised her appearance in the mirror. She opted out of wearing her school robes since they were going into London and she thought that somehow she seemed older and more mature in her reflection today.

The sound of her shoes hitting the smooth stones of the corridor echoed loudly as she made her way to McGonagall's office. Though she had slinked around these halls late at night many a times in her years at Hogwarts, something about this early morning quiet was eerie to her.

Before she knew it she was mumbling the password to the Headmistress's office and slipping inside. McGonagall sat at her desk writing and looked up when Hermione entered.

"Oh Hermione dear, how have you been?" McGonagall greeted the younger woman warmly and gestured towards a comfortable arm chair in front of her desk for Hermione to take a seat.

"I'm well, Professor, has Draco come through yet?" She sat down and nervously played with the hem of her robes.

"Not yet, I imagine he will be here soon," she assured. "Speaking of the young Mr. Malfoy, how have you two been getting along? Has he given you any trouble?"

"No, Ma'am, we've been getting along better recently."

"Good, good. I know that Albus saw innocence in him and he would surely be back to haunt me if I let him to his own devices. You are a good influence for him," she said reassuringly and Hermione shifted uncomfortably in the chair.

"I try, Professor. He can be difficult."

"Well, yes, he has been programmed from a young age with dark ideologies. I don't think he really buys into them, do you?"

"No, Professor," she admitted sheepishly. Hermione gave a start when she heard a knock at the door and the Headmistress waved her wand succinctly to allow Draco entrance.

His tall frame looked exceptionally gaunt today and she could tell by the bags under his eyes that he didn't get much, if any, sleep last night.

"Good morning Professor, thank you for letting us access your floo network today," he said cordially, doing his best to stand tall and confident. Hermione was mildly surprised, she had never heard him be so respectful to a teacher before, aside from Snape.

"Not at all, Mr. Malfoy," McGonagall tilted her head in acknowledgement and quickly guided them over to her fireplace and indicated a bag of floo powder on the mantle. "Right through here now, and I will leave the network open for when you both return."

"Thank you, Professor," Hermione offered a small smile and stepped into the fireplace with a handful of power. She calmly announced her destination, dropped the power, and was consumed by a whirl of tickling flames and smoke.

She was shunted out into a long hallway at the ministry, it was still quite early so the ministry workers hadn't yet started pouring in for their day in the office. She was busy looking around in awe at the massive empty hallway she forgot to move out of the way and Draco quickly shuffled through the fireplace and knocked into the back of her.

She gasped and tumbled forward slightly but he grasped her by the upper arms to stop her from falling on her face. His body was pressed against the back of her and she stopped breathing momentarily.

"First time, Granger?" he teased in her ear, though he hadn't yet released the hold on her upper arms that pinned her flush against him. The soft material of his robes slipped against the rough material of hers and she could feel every inch of his body that was touching hers. She was surprised to find that his frame wasn't as gaunt as she had suspected, he was actually quite muscular. His broad chest tapered into a svelte waist and she closed her eyes tightly to stop her mind from postulating about anything lower than that.

"I'm fine, Malfoy, you can let go now," and she stepped away from him, tugging her arms slightly as he resisted her attempts to free herself. He finally released her and they stepped forward away from the fireplace and into the hallway. She chanced a glance over at him and she could see the anxiety and stress etched into his face. "How are you this morning?" She was attempting friendly conversation.

"How do you think?" he bit back and shoved some of his hair out of his face, trying to smooth it out after it got tossled by the floor journey. He felt a tiny bit guilty for being snappy with her, but he didn't have the energy for small talk this morning. "I have to meet with my mother's council downstairs, do you want me to accompany you to the courtroom?"

She was momentarily shocked by his politeness, this was certainly a different side of Draco than she was used to. "Um… I actually… well, I told Harry and Ron that I would meet them upstairs in Mr. Weasley's office before the trial, to catch up."

At the mention of Harry and Ron, Draco's face darkened, "right, of course." He turned on his heel to stalk off towards the corridor that led to the courtrooms.

"Wait, Draco," she called out before he got far and they both looked a little shocked by her use of his first name. She did a quick jog to catch up to him and he faced her, patiently waiting. When she reached him she wasn't sure what she intended to do but she suddenly felt like she needed to offer him something, some modicum of comfort. She reached out hesitantly and he looked at her hand, perplexed. She grasped his left hand and squeezed it tightly in her much smaller one. She lingered there for a moment, doing her best to look reassuring as she grasped his hand.

"Good luck," was all she said and she dropped his hand. He had stood there frozen to the spot and as she dropped his hand from her warm grasp he felt suddenly cold and empty. She quickly turned and speed walked towards the elevators that would take her to Mr. Weasley's office not looking back to see the anguished look on Draco's face as he stood there in shock at her gesture of comfort.

...

"Hermione!" both Harry and Ron shoute and smiled in unison as she slipped into the small ministry office. Mr. Weasley must have let the boys come in early to see her because no one else was present in the small department.

Ron cleared the distance between them in three long strides and he scooped her up into a crushing hug. She shamefully noted to herself that she didn't get the same warm sensation in her stomach as she had when she was pressed against Draco momentarily only a few minutes earlier.

Once Ron released her, she turned to Harry to hug him in greeting as well. The three of them plopped down into chairs that were scattered about the tiny space and began to catch up.

"We've missed you so much, Hermione," Ron began, "how has being back at school been?"

"Oh it's been fine, Ginny has been a wonderful head girl and things are running like a well oiled machine. It's honestly the most uneventful school year I've had so far," she laughed and they grinned knowingly. "How has it been being roommates?" she smiled, knowing that they surely had been butting heads.

"Oh not so bad," Harry replied, "if only I could get Ron to pick up after himself, I don't think he has realized yet that I'm not his mother… or a house elf."

"Oh shut up, it's not that bad!" Ron piped in.

"But really, we've both been so tired from auror training that we haven't had much time for anything else. Pretty boring life I would say. Who would've thought that auror training would be more boring than school?" Harry grinned.

Hermione was overjoyed to be able to see her two best friends today, and somehow she was feeling guilt at her happiness knowing Draco was down in the courts preparing for one of the hardest days of his life.

"How did you get here anyway, Hermione? Me and Harry got to use the toilet entrance in London," Ron boasted as if this were some kind of accomplishment.

"Oh me and Malfoy floo'd here form McGonagall's office," she explained.

"Ugh I forgot we have to see Malfoy again today, I still can't believe he's gone back to school. Has he been a total nightmare?" Harry questioned.

"No, actually… he has been cordial. I've helped him a bit preparing for this trial," she admitted and she saw Ron's face coloring with a simmering rage.

"You let me know if he steps one foot out of line, Hermione," Ron said in a threatening tone.

"Oh of course, Ronald," she rolled her eyes. "I'll make sure to call you straight away if he calls me mudblood or puts itching powder in my knickers."

"He better not be anywhere near your knickers!" Ron roared and Harry immediately adopted a worried and uncomfortable expression.

"Ron, don't be ridiculous, I-" she started but Ron cut her off.

"Listen, Hermione, we know what kind of dark stuff he has been involved in, I don't want you to be anywhere near him," Ron said, his voice taking on a slightly calmer tone.

"Ronald," it was Hermione's turn to get fired up, "I can do whatever I want with my own time. If I want to spend time helping Malfoy with his mother's case, then that is what I will do."

"You don't understand!" Ron replied hotly, "You don't even know the half of it, the aurors discovered that Pansy Parkinson has gone into hiding. Not from Voldemort's followers, but from Draco Malfoy specifically. We suspect that he has done something to her, torture probably, or maybe _worse_." The three of them in the room knew exactly what Ron was implying when he said "worse" - rape. "She doesn't want to press charges against him, so there isn't any action the ministry can take, not that they would want to waste the resources defending her."

Hermione suddenly felt sick to her stomach. Sick that Ron would speak so derisively of someone he thought was a victim of rape. Also sick because she knew more about what Ron was talking about than he even could imagine. Draco had admitted to her that he had raped Pansy on Voldemort's command.

"First of all Ron, if that is what you think happened, no one deserves that. Not even Pansy Parkinson. Second of all, he isn't like that," was all she could muster to bite out in reply to Ron.

"You're kidding," Ron blanched, "You're really defending that rapist piece of shit? What the fuck, Hermione?" Harry looked like he was hesitantly siding with Ron in the disagreement and Hermione suddenly felt stifled and claustrophobic in the small room.

"I see now that you would rather waste the small amount of time we have together argueing than catching up. I am going to head down to the courtroom, I will see you there once you've cooled down," she dismissed them with a cold voice and stormed off out of the office.

As she made her way down to lower levels of the ministry, ministry officials were slowly filing into the massive structure and wandering off to their respective offices and desks. Hermione was seething all the way down.

...

The trial was longer and more difficult that she had even imagined. Her and Ron testified about their time in Malfoy Manor, how Narcissa wasn't involved with any of the dark magic or curses that were inflicted on them. Hermione was mildly surprised that in the mood that Ron was in he didn't just tear into Mrs. Malfoy.

Harry talked about his time in the woods during the final battle, how Mrs. Malfoy had lied to the Dark Lord that he was dead and ended up saving his life. During Harry's testimony she snuck a glance over at Draco and he had his eyes fixed on his mother who was quietly crying. She remained in her stoic and proper posture, with a rigidly straight back; however, tears streamed freely down her face as she remembered the final battle. Draco's expression was tortured and anguished and Hermione found herself feeling ashamed for looking at him while such private emotions were written all over his face.

The rest of the testimonies did not go as well that day, many were from former death eaters who had lessened sentences for agreeing to testify at these trials. They wanted revenge on the Malfoys and felt free to rip into Narcissa mercilessly. Hermione tried to tune most of it out as she couldn't bear to listen to all the gory details of their time hosting the Dark Lord in Malfoy Manor.

Ron and Harry sat on either side of Hermione, rigid and unmoving. They had slipped into the courtroom right before the trial began and without a word took their places beside her. At the end of the long day of trials court was finally adjourned and they were free to leave. Harry and Ron relaxed somewhat as people began to file out.

Draco quickly hurried to his mother's side and held her tightly to his chest to hide her crying face from curious onlookers. They whispered a few words quietly to each other before the guards escorted her out of the room leaving Draco standing alone, staring off into space hopelessly.

Ron broke Hermione from her thoughts when he spoke, "I'm really sorry, Hermione."

She looked up at him, shocked. It wasn't like Ron to apologize so quickly after a spat. "It's okay, Ron."

"No, I shouldn't have wasted our time this morning by picking a fight with you. I trust your judgement, we are adults now. I need to stop acting so childish," he said sheepishly, scratching the back of his neck.

Hermione looked at him in shock, "Oh, Ron," she wrapped her arms tightly around his waist and he held her close, leaning down to rest his cheek on top of her head.

"We will come visit you soon, okay? I promise I will keep a cool head this time," he chuckled and his laugh was a low rumble that surrounded her and made her feel at home.

"I really miss you guys," she pulled back from Ron and pulled Harry into their hug. "Me and Malfoy have to get back to the castle, I told Professor McGonagall that we would be back before dinner, but please write to me more often! And Harry I know you've been writing to Ginny so you two can't act like you don't have time," she admonished with a smile and Harry blushed. Ron raised an eyebrow at Harry, he clearly had realized his best friend had been writing to his sister so often.

They said their goodbyes and Hermione headed out of the courtroom to find Draco who wasn't anywhere to be seen now. She wandered towards the entrance hallway that was connected to the floo network, assuming that he would have headed this way as well.

When she got to the fireplace that they had arrived through she found Draco standing there stoically, expression blank.

"Draco," she said in a low, hesitant voice. "Are you okay?"

"Peachy," he hissed and gestured for her to get into the fireplace, "Mudbloods first."

She gasped and stepped back from him, "don't take this out on me, Malfoy. I don't deserve that."

He glared at her, "whatever, Granger." He disappeared into the fireplace and was gone in a whoosh of flame before she could even retort. She took a moment to gather herself and then stepped into the fireplace after him.

When she arrived in McGonagall's office after him, he had already stormed out.

"I take it that the trial didn't go well today?" McGonagall asked softly from her desk when she saw Hermione appear.

"No… it was rough," Hermione admitted, her shoulders sagging.

"He may need you now more than ever," the Headmistress advised.

"I don't think I could get through to him now, he needs space." Hermione quickly exited the office before any tears would well up in her eyes, she would not let Professor McGonagall see her in such a state.

Hermione skipped dinner and rushed back to her dormitory as quickly as possible. Once she got there, she tugged the curtains around her bed closed, whispered a silencing spell on them, and buried her face in her pillow, sobbing. It was an emotionally taxing day to say the least, but somehow Draco's cruel and calloused behavior at the end of the day was what sent her over the edge.

She drifted in and out of sleep for the rest of the evening before a small ray of candlelight peaked through her curtains and Ginny stuck her head in.

"Ginny, what time is it?" Hermione asked groggily, sitting up and she realized she was still completely dressed in her clothes and robes.

"Almost midnight," Ginny responded quietly, "Um… there is something you need to come handle."

"Huh?" Hermione asked as she threw back the curtains, got up, and straightened out her clothes and hair.

"Well… um, how do I put this? Malfoy is outside of the portrait to the common room," Ginny began.

"Malfoy?" Hermione whispered, shocked.

"Yeah, and he is shouting, quite loud actually."

"Shouting?!" They were both now hurrying down to the common room, trying to be quiet as possible as to not disturb any of the students who were already asleep. As they approached the portrait, Hermione heard Malfoy's voice on the other side.

"Give me Granger, you daft bint!" he shouted at the Fat Lady in a slurred voice.

"Good God, is he drunk?" Hermione whispered to Ginny before she ventured out into the corridor.

"It appears so," Ginny replied back flatly and scurried back to the dormitory to leave Hermione with the mess of a Malfoy.


	7. Chapter 7 - Alcove

Hermione straightened out her sleep-mussed clothes and quickly opened the portrait hole, sliding out and shutting it behind her, before Draco could wake anyone else up. Luckily it was Ginny that discovered him pounding the life out of the entrance to Gryffindor tower.

"What are you doing here?" she hissed and wrapped her arms protectively around herself. She took in his appearance, he was still in the pristine all black suit he wore that day to the ministry. His tie was undone and he unbuttoned the top few buttons of his shirt revealing a hint of the white expanse of his chest. He was swaying on his feet and she could smell the alcohol on his breath even from a few feet away.

"I just..." he suddenly seemed lost for words now that he had her attention, "I just wanted to see you. I wanted you to do that thing again."

She raised an eyebrow and threw her hands out at her side in an exasperated 'I give up' motion. "What thing?"

"You know," he stumbled closer to her, "this." He reached out and grabbed her hand, giving it a squeeze in an imitation of what she had done earlier that morning in the ministry before she left him to go see Harry and Ron. His hands were cold and clammy and hers were soft and warm and she looked up at him bewildered. He didn't let go and his eyes seemed to bore into her, his penetrating stare made her avert her eyes down to her tiny hand enclosed in his.

She was overwhelmed with a wave of pity for him, so starved for human touch and affection that he was turning to her just for a little hand holding.

"You've been drinking," she remarked, breaking them out of the moment.

"Astute observation," he quipped.

"How did you even get alcohol onto school grounds?"

"You would be amazed what you can sneak back from Hogsmeade if you really put your mind to it," he responded.

"Let's get you back to the Slytherin dorms, Malfoy." she said softly.

"No," he hissed and finally dropped her hand, stumbling backwards. "I can't go back there."

"Why not?"

"Half of their fucking relatives testified today against my mother. I can't face them," the anxiety in his voice caused her to feel another pang of pity.

She remembered the testimonies from earlier that day, ex-deatheater after ex-deatheater detailing how Narcissa Malfoy personally attended the Dark Lord in the study and ensured he had enough to eat. The way that they made it sound was as if she doted on him like her first born.

Hermione recalled Draco's tortured face and the tears streaming down Mrs. Malfoy's face as they slandered her and did their best to earn their freedom from Azkaban by throwing everyone else who stood in their way under the bus.

"Okay I have an idea," she whispered and began walking down the corridor as quietly as she could manage, "come with me." She gestured for him to follow her.

"Where are we going, Granger?" he questioned as he lumbered clumsily after her, the steps of his dress shoes echoing loudly in the empty hall.

"I assume you're familiar with the Room of Requirement?"

His steps behind her faltered as his negative memories of the room flooded him. Countless hours working on the vanishing cabinet. The Battle of Hogwarts and nearly burning the room out of existence. "I don't think that's a good idea."  
"It will be fine, Malfoy, you don't have to live there. But you need to get some sleep tonight because you have a long day ahead of you tomorrow. The trial goes on all week," she spoke in hushed tones.

He didn't respond but shuffled behind her as she confidently navigated the castle and the staircases, defeated. She was right and it looked like that was his best option to get some shut eye.

Trailing after he afforded him a nice view, she must have discarded her robes and she was now just wearing her muggle clothes. Jeans, he seemed to remember them being called. And a jumper in a color that would make any Gryffindor proud. He decidedly liked muggle jeans, the way they accentuated an ass in a manner that wizard robes severely lacked. Draco carefully stored the image of her walking in front of him in her jeans away in a safe place in his memory.

By some miracle they made it to the seventh floor corridor without being spotted by any teachers or prefects on patrol. Just as they were about to turn the corner to the corridor that contained the entrance to the room they heard two voices chatting away. Hagrid was admiring the finer points of Mandrakes aloud to Professor Sprout while they made their rounds of the castle.

"They are cute lil' devils, really, if you can get past the death inducin' screamin'" Hagrid remarked, the glow of their illuminated wands was approaching quickly and a panic stricken expression marred Hermione's features.

She quickly grabbed Draco by the arm and shoved him into a small windowed alcove and slipped in after him. It was a tight squeeze but with both of their backs to the walls in the alcove they had some space in between them.

Hagrid and Professor Sprout's footsteps grew louder as they approached and Professor Sprout babbled on about the benefits and practical applications of Mandrake roots. Hermione was grateful that they were distracted otherwise they surely would have caught them hiding in the alcove which was altogether not an optimal hiding place. Professor Snape, rest his soul, would have sniffed them out in a second.

Draco teetered forward and rested his forehead head on the wall above Hermione's right shoulder, bracing himself. There was now only an inch between their bodies and he grasped her left arm for support, his right arm draping across the front of her body. Her breath hitched in her throat and she tried to shrink as small as possible to minimize the contact between them.

He was breathing heavily through his mouth in his drunken stupor and his breath tickled her ear in a not-unpleasant way. The hand that was gripping her left arm slipped down to her forearm and his thumb rubbed over the spot where he knew her scar was. It felt like static electricity penetrating her sweater with each pass of his thumb. This was all way to intimate for Hermione and she knew that sober Draco would be very embarrassed by this compromising position tomorrow.

Hagrid and Professor Sprout's footsteps faded down the opposite end of the hall as they passed by and out of sight. Hermione decided she would give it a second before they emerged, not wanting to risk getting caught out of bed so late past curfew.  
"I don't want to hurt anyone else," he admitted in a strangled whisper in her ear, still caressing her scarred forearm. It was almost as if he was begging her to save him from himself.

She knew exactly what he was referring to, but she chose to skirt around the topic.

"You don't have to," she assured him and she didn't make any moves to pull away. The contrast between the cold, rough stone wall behind her and his body radiating warmth in front of her was making her feel dizzy.

"Especially you," his lips were now a mere centimeter away from her ear and his words shot tingles down her spine.

He felt her stray curly hairs tickle his cheek and he closed his eyes, trying to savor the sensation.

"Did you ever plan to hurt me?" she asked curiously, unafraid.

"Maybe. I don't know. When I was young and stupid I hoped the monster from the chamber of secrets would come and take you away," he admitted to her, "I mostly just wanted you gone so I didn't have to think about you. How infuriating you were to me. A mudblood who was smarter than me. Better at magic than me. More popular. Beautiful, even back then with your obnoxious teeth and even more obnoxious mannerisms." He spoke in disjointed sentences and now his lips were brushing her earlobe with every word.

She just about melted into a puddle when he called her beautiful. A small part of her hoped that he wouldn't remember any of this in the morning and they could go back to keeping their distance from each other.  
"And now?" she pressed.

"Now I feel protective of you," he leaned more into her so his chest was pressed against her. Her eyes were level with his undone buttons and she saw how painfully flawless the skin of his chest was up close. She felt an urge to reach up and run her fingers along his skin but she squashed it. She couldn't tell if he was just trying to hold himself up or if he couldn't get enough of their proximity, every movement he made was clumsy and he held himself very loosely against her. "Like I said, only I'm allowed to hate you. No one else."

"Do you hate me though? Really?" She inhaled the masculine scent of his cologne mixed with the slightly overpowering scent of firewhiskey. Hagrid and Professor Sprout were now long gone but the two of them stayed tucked away in the tight alcove.  
"I suppose I don't. Not anymore." He slipped the hand holding her forearm down to her wrist and slowly pulled up her sleeve. When he reached her scar he closed his fingers over the raised scar tissue, feeling ever letter. "Mudblood, pureblood. It's all meaningless now."

And that was enough to snap her out of her haze. Perhaps all the alcohol on his breath had made her drunk through some sort of sick osmosis because she was suddenly feeling very light headed. She realized that maybe she was taking advantage of him in his intoxicated state and pressing him for information that he wouldn't otherwise freely give and she felt a stab of guilt.

"We should go now," she whispered, though she didn't move.

He sighed heavily and dropped her arm, leaning back against the wall, his eyes were glazed over. He indicated for her to lead the way despite being painfully familiar with this particular corridor.

She slipped out of the alcove and a harsh wave of cold air smacked him harshly in the face as he trailed after her. He could have stayed there with her like that all night. They quickly reached the Room of Requirement and slipped inside.  
The room acknowledged that Draco required a bed for sleeping and it provided a cozy looking twin bed similar to the ones in their dorms. Hermione said a silent thanks that they didn't walk into some lurid sex palace. Not that she had any idea where the room would get that kind of idea from. A fire was crackling in a large exposed brick fireplace and two scarlet velvet arm chairs sat in front of the fire. There were two doors at the back of the small bedroom she could only assume led to a closet and a bathroom.

"How cozy," he remarked, sinking into one of the chairs. He put his elbows on his knees and rested his head in his hands. For a second Hermione thought he was trying not to be sick but then he spoke. "Thank you," he said in such a low voice she almost thought her ears were playing tricks on her.

"Don't worry about it Malfoy, you should get some sleep, you have another long day tomorrow," she stood awkwardly near the door and slowly turned to leave.

"Sorry you had to see me like this, I didn't really have anywhere else to go. Funny how that works."

"How what works?" she questioned, pausing.

"If you had told me even a year or two ago that Hermione Granger was the only person who would talk to me I would have said you were completely demented."

"Well, I guess life works in strange ways sometimes," she admitted, not sure where the conversation was going.

"Stay," he said and looked up at her pleadingly.

"I can't, you know that," her heart ached for the broken boy slumped in the chair.

"Please, stay. Don't make me beg," he said with an edge of desperation in his voice.

"And what would Ginny think if I wandered off into the night with Draco Malfoy and didn't return to my bed?" she said with a small smile, trying to add levity to the situation.

"Is that the only reason you won't?" he stood and walked towards her and she edged backwards. His eyes were trained on her face, not on her eyes, but rather roaming over her face searchingly.

"There are plenty of reasons," she said in a breathy voice and she felt like they were back on that small alcove again.

"Name one," he challenged softly.

"You're drunk, you don't know what you're saying. In the morning if you were to wake up next to a mudblood like me you would be sick with yourself," she said half-jokingly.

"Don't," he hissed as his expression darkened, "don't call yourself that."

"And why the hell not?" she said hotly. "You do."

"Yes well, as I said. I'm the only one allowed."

She ignored him and continued, "I'm not going to… to… have sex with you." Her face turned a deep shade of crimson at the word sex and she loathed herself for not being able to be mature about it.

His lips twitched in a hint of a smirk, "I didn't say anything about sex, Granger. Your own dirty mind took you there."

"Oh come of it, Malfoy, you know what you were implying when you asked me to stay," she said indignantly.

"No, really. I just… hate being alone anymore." The tone of the conversation shifted to a more serious note.

She knew that Ron, Harry, and herself all had wretched nightmares after the war, and they probably would continue to do for years, maybe their entire lives. Many nights after the war they would stay up talking together, the three of them, rather than go to sleep and face their own inner demons. She couldn't imagine the kinds of nightmares Draco had and he didn't even have anyone to talk to about them.

"I have to go now-" she started but he interrupted.

"Come with me tomorrow," he insisted, "I'll go insane this week without you."

"I have class, Malfoy," she responded but she knew that was a weak excuse. She was intimidated and alarmed by this drunk version of Draco's forwardness.

"You already know everything they could possibly try to teach us, plus the Weaslette can share her notes with you. You know you would be excused no questions asked."

"Okay," she said.

"Okay?" he asked, surprised that she didn't put up more of a fight.

"Yes, I will go with you this week. I suppose it isn't something that someone should go through alone. I'll meet you in McGonagall's office in the morning."

He smiled a kind of lopsided drunken smile and slipped his tie off his neck, tossing it to the floor casually.

"You should hang up your clothes in the closet, if you don't plan on returning to the dormitory tonight you will need them in the morning," she admonished and picked up his tie, draping it over the back of one of the arm chairs. He was already shrugging out of his jacket and he lazily tossed it across the other as he started kicking out of his shoes, almost falling over once or twice.

She suddenly felt like she was intruding on a very intimate moment and she looked to his face to see him smirking at her as he unbuttoned his dress shirt skillfully, even for someone off their rocker drunk.

"See anything you like?" he said with a cocky swagger that was unique to him.

She rolled her eyes, but still found herself rooted to the spot by some uncontrollable force. He tossed his shirt aside to land on top of his discarded jacket and Hermione gulped. His torso was lithe and his shoulders were broad and well muscled. He wasn't exactly what one would describe as buff, but he definitely wasn't lacking. His skin was just as pale as she had expected it to be but in the light of the fireplace it took on the appearance of solid white marble.

He had succeeded in convincing her to attend his mother's trial with him this week and he was suddenly filled with his old cockyness and confidence.

When he began to undo his belt she snapped out of it and quickly groped for the doorknob, her hand missing its grasp a few times and she cursed to herself, hearing his low rumbling chuckle behind her. Damn him, he knew he had gotten her all flustered. She finally made it out the door as she heard his belt falling to the ground behind her.

"Goodnight," she mumbled over her shoulder without looking back.

She all but ran through the halls and found herself back in the Gryffindor common room in no time. She stood, panting, with her hands on her knees trying to catch her breath and she convinced herself that she was short of breath from her jog back rather than from the strange encounter with Malfoy.

...

 **Thank you so much for the position response I've received so far! I have a lot of not-so-well-laid but interesting plans for the direction of this story.**

 **Leave a review! xo**


	8. Chapter 8 - Drowning

Hermione found herself once again in the Headmistress's office at the crack of dawn, sitting in the plush arm chair in front of her desk.

"I was wondering if it would be alright if I was excused from classes this week to accompany Draco Malfoy to his mother's trials?" she inquired, trying to sound as indifferent as possible. "I can get all the notes from Ginny, she shares all of my classes. I promise to make up any assignments that are missed," she offered quickly.

The corners of Professor McGonagall's mouth twitched into a small smile.

"So I take it you two are getting along swimmingly?" the Headmistress questioned. "It is very kind of you to be there for him during this tough time."

"Yes, Ma'am. I think it's hard on him, especially being in Slytherin house." Hermione didn't need to explain any further as McGonagall was well aware of the situation with the other members of Slytherin house and their family members turning informant to the ministry in order to buy reduced sentences.

"Well it is good to see you two promoting inter house unity," McGonagall observed with a knowing smile.

For some reason, this made Hermione blush. Get it together.

"I do wonder why he chose to come back, given the circumstances," Hermione wondered allowed.

"Hmm, yes... maybe that would be a good question to ask Mr. Malfoy."

They heard a curt knock on the door and the Headmistress granted Draco entrance into her office. He was dressed in the same suit from the day before but he must have magically pressed and cleaned it because he looked as impeccably dressed as always. Hermione observed that he was also extremely hungover, there were dark circles under his eyes and his expression clearly indicated that he was nursing a vicious headache.

Draco avoided looking Hermione in the eye but he couldn't help but to feel a swelling of pleasure in his chest at the fact that she was here the morning. The fact that he wouldn't have to face the day by himself. He wondered how he had even gotten to this point, to the point of aching to see her every day.

"Yes, well, we should go. Thank you again, Professor," Hermione hastily stood and made her way over to the fire place. With a last small, thankful smile at her Headmistress she floo'd to the ministry.

She learned her lesson from last time and hastily stepped away from the fireplace after she appeared at the ministry. Draco appeared a moment later and they looked at each other awkwardly. She made a note in the back of her mind to remember this moment because she had never seen Draco Malfoy do anything that could be described as "awkward".

"About last night-" he started.

"So-" she began at the same time. They both paused and averted their eyes uncomfortably. Hermione studied the swirls of white and grey in the marble floors as if they were even more interesting than a fresh copy of Hogwarts, a History.

"I apologize for my behavior last night," he blurted out. "It was... out of line." He cringed remembering dis-robing in front of her right before she practically ran away from him.

"Don't worry about it, you've been through a lot," she responded.

"No. Don't make excuses for me," he said sternly and then his expression softened. "I am... glad. That you are here with me today, I mean."

She could tell that it pained him to admit he was happy to see her and she cracked a small smile. He looked run down and tired, and despite what happened before and during the war she felt a longing to help him.

"Well what can you say? Some people, when they are in pain they get drunk and go beat someone up or destroy something. You on the other hand, turn into an exhibitionist," she smirked when his face morphed into an agonized expression and she finally felt like he had the upper hand.

"Don't remind me," he mumbled and they began to head off towards the court rooms. "I talked to her advocate yesterday," he turned the topic of conversation to the pressing issue of his mother's trial. "They are going to start in on testimonies and evidence regarding her association with my dearly departed Aunty Bellatrix." He gave her a sidelong glance and his eyes flicked over her left forearm briefly.

"Well they've already heard my testimony, I was pretty adamant your mother didn't have anything to do with... my time at Malfoy Manor, so that is probably why the prosecution wasn't interested in calling me back to the stand."

"No, I think you've provided all the relevant information there," he conceded. "However, you didn't let me finish," he scolded her gently, "they are going to use the defense from the case of the two brothers that you found with the precedent that familial association does not necessarily make both parties guilty."

She smiled warmly at him, "that's great, Malfoy."

"Yes, well, we will have to see," he didn't sound confident in this. "My mother's advocate is sub-par. My dear old dad selfishly squandered away our non-frozen assets to fund his own defense so we were stuck with a ministry defender when it came time for my mother's trial," he said ruefully.

"He isn't that bad," Hermione countered.

"Like I said," he said, his voice dropping lower as they approached the room where the trial was to be held that day, "we will have to see."

They pushed open the massive doors and into the bustling court room. Hermione silently followed Draco down to the front of the room and he slipped into the first row of benches typically reserved for the family of the accused. She sidled up next to him, leaving a few inches between them and she folded her hands awkwardly in her lap.

She suddenly felt completely naked without Harry and Ron by her side. Since the war, the three of them had made plenty of public appearances together, and she was always sandwiched between them, safe and secure. Now she felt exposed and cold and judged by the beady eyes of everyone in the massive room.

The trial commenced not long after they sat down and the guards escorted in Mrs. Malfoy.

Narcissa Malfoy looked much more stoic today, she reminded Hermione more of the proud and confident woman that she first saw at the Quidditch World Cup back in the summer before fourth year than of the sobbing mess from yesterday. Perhaps she felt she could hold her head high today knowing she was innocent of the wrong doings that Bellatrix committed. Or maybe she was trying to be strong for Draco who looked so broken and beaten down yesterday.

As Mrs. Malfoy passed by the front row she offered a small smile to Draco and her eyes flicked curiously over Hermione and then back to Draco in a questioning stare. Draco did not acknowledge the question in her expression and tilted his head in greeting.

Soon after Mrs. Malfoy was escorted into the court room, interrogation of the witnesses began. As each wizard and witch got up on the stand one after the other, she could feel Draco's rage boiling over next to her. His anger rolled off of him in waves and he kept adjusting his posture on the bench and fidgeting. He was itching to whip out his wand and curse them all to hell.

Hermione casually slipped her hand to her side scooped Draco's hand into hers. He stiffened. She laced her fingers through his and gave his hand a quick squeeze. She waited a few breathless seconds before he gave her a brief squeeze with his hand in response. With her opposite hand she pretended to brush a piece of lint off her robes but she draped the folds of her robes over their entertwined hands in order to shield the view of them from anyone in the courtroom.

They sat like that all morning during the tedious proceedings, fingers interlocked. Draco concentrated on the connection between them to draw out any bit of Hermione's calming energy and strangely enough it seemed to work.

Draco's eyes were fixed at the front of the room on his mother, his expression cold and blank. His thoughts were torn between the witch who was tenderly holding his hand and the anguish he felt over not being able to help his mother.

He realized that Hermione is the first person to ever have held his hand. At least that he can remember. Maybe Narcissa held his hand as a toddler when dragging him along as a social prop to declare to the world that she was indeed a mother to a beautiful blonde pureblood doll. Throughout childhood though she never held his hand, it was deemed childish and undignified. Despite the fact that, you know, he was a child. After he entered young adulthood he had never had what one would call a traditional girlfriend. He fucked girls. However, he never really paraded those relationships about in public. He always spent his time on Hogshead weekends rolling his eyes and making fun of all those sappy couples galavanting around the streets giving each other googly eyes.

Here and now, in this moment, he couldn't imagine why he had put it off for so long. Holding hands was amazing. Holding hands was reaching out to someone and showing them that you give a shit what happens. Showing that you are there, next to them, and you aren't going anywhere.

Draco suddenly felt a surge of jealousy for all the comfort that Hermione had shown Potter and Weasley over the years. They didn't even know how good they had it, to have someone like her care about them and take care of them.

After the evidence was presented, the advocate seemed to semi-competently lay out the argument that Hermione had come up with about how Narcissa couldn't be held accountable for Bellatrix's crimes. Draco felt a small surge of hope when he saw that the Wizengamot was amenable to this notion. He hoped it was enough to allow them to separate in their minds the woman they once knew as Narcissa Black from her elder and darker sister they once knew as Bellatrix Black. Inseparable in their youth.

When the proceedings began to wind down for the day Hermione slipped her hand out of his and straightened her robes. He felt the absence of her hand as if he had lost a limb.

Hermione wordlessly waited for him as he walked down to the front of the room to greet his mother briefly before she had to be taken away by the guards.

They exchanged a few words and he offered her a tight hug before she was taken away and Draco was once again left standing alone at the front of the high-ceilinged room. Hermione waited for him to recover and once he began walking out towards the door she followed him.

"My mother was surprised to see you here today," he remarked.

"I imagine she would be, we haven't exactly been friends throughout the years."

"I told her you were the one that came up with the advocate's argument for today and she seemed quite pleased."

"Oh I hardly came up with the argument," Hermione countered, "I merely found an example of a case that set a precedent."

They headed towards the entrance hall in a comfortable silence, both deep in thought about the proceedings that took place that day when a voice broke them out of their revere.

"Oi! Hermione!"

Draco thought he had never heard such an unpleasant sound in his entire life.

Ron Weasely was jogging towards them from the elevators, his junior auror robes billowing behind him.

"Ron?" Hermione looked surprised, "I didn't know you were going to be here today."

"Yeah, same goes for you. I'm on an assignment. What are you doing here with him?" Ron gestured towards Draco as if he wasn't there and Draco concentrated all his energy on restraining his temper.

"I've already told you, Ronald, I've been helping Draco with his mother's trial," she snapped at him in a sharp voice.

"Well I didn't know that meant you had to babysit him as well," Ron countered. "Imagine my surprise when one of my fellow aurors told me that he saw my bird getting cozy with Draco Malfoy down in the court rooms. i thought surely he must be mistaken, but here you are." He gave a sweeping gesture at them.

"First of all, Ron," she began an a tight tone, "I am not your bird." Draco smirked from behind her.

"Second of all," she continued, "I was not 'getting cozy', I merely attended the trial. I wasn't aware I owed you a detailed report of my life!"

"God, Hermione, it is painfully obvious that he is just using you!" Ron all but yelled.

"And how is that, Weasel?" Draco asked, his voice dripping with venom.

"You stay out of this, you stupid ferret," Ron barked at Draco and turned back to Hermione, "he just wants everyone to see him sitting in the stands next to war hero Hermione Granger. That ought to show everyone how reformed and remorseful he is. That ought to reflect well on the Malfoy name, the Malfoy heir and Harry Potter's best friend, overcoming the barriers between them!" Ron finished sarcastically.

For a moment, a bloom of doubt that Draco actually was using her blossomed in her stomach and made her feel ill. She tried to stamp it down.

Ron took a deep breath to calm himself, "Hermione, may I please talk to you in private."

Normally Hermione would think this quite rude but she thought it might be a good idea to have this conversation away from Draco in case it got heated. The last thing she needed was a confrontation between Draco and Ron in the middle of the Ministry of Magic.

"You can go on without me," she advised Draco.

"I'll wait," he said brusquely and walked over to the fireplace they needed to take back to Hogwarts to give them some privacy. He observed them talking in hushed tones while he waited.

"Hermione, do you remember what I told you about him? He is dangerous," Ron hissed, gripping her upper arm to pull her further away from Draco so he wouldn't overhear them. She quickly shook her arm out of his grasp and all but stomped her foot.

"I seem to remember you admitting that you were wrong and that I was perfectly capable of taking care of myself!" she said with no regard for controlling the volume of her voice.

"I know," he rubbed his hand down his face exasperatedly, trying to gather his thoughts. "I just don't like the thought of you at Hogwarts all alone, and to think that you are spending so much time with him, it makes me want to be sick."

"Ron," she admonished, "I am not alone. I have Ginny and all of Gryffindor house to talk to and pal around with. You are being melodramatic. My life isn't all about you and Harry despite what you may think."

"That isn't the point and you know it," he snapped back, "just don't put yourself in a situation where he could hurt you!"

She rolled her eyes, "are you done with your jealous rant? We barely get to see each other anymore and it feels like we fight every time we do."

"I know," he sighed heavily, his shoulders relaxing. "I just worry about you."

"You think I don't worry about you? I don't know what dangers you are facing or what new and imaginative way that you and Harry have invented to throw yourselves into harms way this week. You think it doesn't pain me not to be with you?"

"I'm sorry," he said, admitting defeat. "Let's not fight over this anymore."

She cracked a very small smile. "Agreed."

He smiled foolishly back at her and wrapped her in a tight embrace. "God I miss you," he whispered into the top of her head as he held her.

She hugged him back and she felt his hands slide down her back, grazing over the top of her bum. Little did she know that Ron was smirking over her shoulder in Draco's direction. Hermione pushed Ron away abruptly and gave him a confused and hurt look.

Draco silently seethed from his place across the entrance hall, imagining what exactly he wanted to do with Weasley's hands that were roaming over Hermione. Rip them off his arms, to start with.

"I'll talk to you later," she mumbled and headed to return to Draco after disentangling from her hug with Ron. Ron stood by and watched helplessly after them as they disappeared into the floo powder induced flames.

After exchanging pleasantries with McGonagall they both headed out of the Headmistress's office towards the great hall for dinner.

"Do you always let Weasley manhandle you like that?" Draco remarked, his anger still on the verge of boiling over.

"I don't know what that was... I mean he isn't my boyfriend. At least he has never tried to commit to me." she said the last part in a small voice.

"What a pathetic excuse for a wizard," Draco bit out.

"Don't say that," she admonished, "you know who you sound like when you say things like that," she said, referring to his father.

"You think I say he is pathetic because of the same reasons my father did?" He bit out a cold laugh, "No, Granger. He is a pathetic excuse for a wizard because he has had you within his reach all these years and he has treated you like dirt. Using you as his own personal homework assistant and a proxy mother."

His words stung Hermione and she did her best to remain calm and not let tears prickle at the back of her eyes.

"Why do you even want me there with you this week, Malfoy?" she asked, referring to Ron's words about Draco using her to garner sympathy and support in the courtrooms.

"I want you there because I'm fucking drowning, Hermione," he had stopped walking and he looked at her with a hopeless, desperate expression that made her heart stop. "I'm fucking drowning and you are a life preserver."

She took a deep, shaky breath, "Draco..."

"No, better yet," he interrupted her, stepping towards her, "I'm drowning and you are a light house. You are trying to show me the way to shore but I'm just out of reach, struggling to stay afloat."

They both stood there, facing each other and breathing heavily with the exertion of their emotions and the pent up rage Draco felt throughout the day.

"You don't even realize how you appear to everyone around you," he continued. "You are the brightest light in every room you enter. You are so fucking good and pure that it's sickening. It has always pissed me off and disgusted me my entire life, but now it infuriates me even more that it's directed at me. You always have to do good and help people but maybe some people just can't be helped, Granger."

He turned on his heel abruptly and stalked off, not in any particular direction - just away from her.

"You can be helped," she whispered into the empty corridor. 


	9. Chapter 9 - Verdict

Hermione wasn't awoken by Draco drunkenly pounding on the portrait hole at any point during the night so she could only assume that he went back to the Room of Requirement and passed out. She also assumed he wouldn't return to the Slytherin dungeons, at least not this week. Not that she planned on roaming the castle looking for him.

Maybe she did try too hard to help him. Maybe she was embarrassing herself. He clearly didn't want her help, yet she kept persisting. She persisted because she saw glimpses of a sweet and innocent Draco. She also caught glimpses of Draco the unhinged Death Eater.

The next few days at the trial were status quo. Draco barely spoke to her, and her to him. She still slipped her small hand into his large awaiting hand and obscured them with her robes as they sat on the bench side by side. His demeanor seemed calmer as soon as she threaded her fingers through his so she continued to do so. She was just there for him, no questions asked. Hermione did her best not to talk to much because she interpreted his silence over the course of the week as a plea for her to follow suit.

They met in McGonagall's office in the morning and returned together at night. As soon as they left her office, they went their separate ways. Hermione headed off to the great hall for dinner and Draco headed off who knows where.

Friday morning Hermione slipped out of Gryffindor tower bright and early as usual. She crept through the hallways to McGonagall's office. Creeping not because she wasn't supposed to be out of bed but because there was no other way to move about the castle when it was in this deserted state.

Today was supposed to be the close of the trial where Mrs. Malfoy was read her verdict and sentenced. Hermione felt a strange nervous feeling in her throat. She saw Draco approaching from the opposite end of the corridor and she paused outside of the Headmistress's office to wait for him.

"Are you okay?" she asked. He looked particularly haggard this morning despite being in his normal perfectly pressed suit. His eyes were sunken and he was sporting a very dark expression. She figured that he had spent the night drinking but there was something lurking beneath the surface in his eyes. He looked... threatening.

"Peachy," he responded in a cold sarcastic voice. He straightened out his jacket and gestured for her to lead the way in the office.

After their confrontation in the corridor on the second day of the trial, Hermione wasn't able to get more than two words out of him. She decided not to press it and she murmured the password and headed forward.

The mood in the air at the ministry was tense. There was some media present outside of the courtroom, lingering and waiting for any snippet of information to come through.

Draco and Hermione took their normal seats in the front row. Draco was fidgeting in his seat, he kept craning his head towards the back of the room everytime he heard a noise, expecting to see his mother coming through the massive oak doors. Hermione remained calm, today she sat a few inches further from Draco to give him space. She didn't want to think about his reaction to a 'guilty' verdict so she could only hope Mrs. Malfoy was declared innocent.

The doors slowly creaked open and Narcissa Malfoy was ushered in by two aurors that Hermione did not recognize. She assumed they were junior aurors who worked with Ron and Harry, perhaps one of them was the one who tipped Ron off when she first came along to the trial with Draco.

Narcissa looked paler than normal and her face was tight and strained with the effort of remaining calm and dignified. Draco's knuckles were white as he gripped the edge of the bench and leaned forward to observe his mother being lead to the front of the room, to be sentenced by the Wizengamot.

As he observed his mother he couldn't help but to think about how much he resented his father for running away like a coward, for not being there for his mother. Did he even know the end of her trial was today? Was he awaiting the news of the verdict in whatever hidey hole he had slithered away to? Draco's thoughts unwillingly drifted to the young woman sitting next to him, how she had been there despite his barely restrained distaste for her and her two best friends since they met. She was there for him despite his ruthless bullying in their younger years. She saw some good in him, even if he couldn't see it in himself.

As soon as everyone was in place they dispensed quickly with he formalities and soon a representative of the court stood up to read the verdict. Narcissa Malfoy was charged originally as an accessory to torture, murder, unlawful imprisonment, and kidnapping, but her advocate had managed to widdle down the charges to accessory to torture and unlawful imprisonment. If she were to be charged guilty on one or both of those counts she would be facing a very long stay in Azkaban and if she ever did get out she surely wouldn't be the same woman.

A Wizengamot official whom Hermione did not recognize stood up and straightened his finely pressed emerald green robes. He cleared his voice and brought everyone's eyes to a laser focus on the front of the massive room.

"On the count of accessory to torture, the court finds Mrs. Narcissa Malfoy innocent," the wizard announced. Hermione squeezed Draco's hand but they weren't out of the woods yet. Draco's rigid body remained pointed at the front of the room, eyes on the wizard reading his mother's fate.

"On the count of unlawful imprisonment," the wizard took a pause for dramatic effect and you could have heard a pin drop on the pristine marble floor, "the court finds Mrs. Narcissa Malfoy innocent."

Draco let out a breath he had been holding every since the beginning of the trial and he stood up rapidly, dragging Hermione with him and wrapping her in a tight hug as if he forget who it was standing next to him. "Thank you," he said in her ear just loud enough for her to hear it and she hugged him back with a grin. He had very nearly lifted her off her feet with the hug and as soon as he released her she felt slightly off balance.

The entire room was in an uproar as soon as the verdict was announced and the media, representatives from the Daily Prophet and other wizarding news outlets, descended upon the front of the court room.

Draco rushed over to his mothers side and she gave him a chaste kiss on the cheek, he gave her a brief hug and began guiding her out of the room, shielding them from the media. Hermione and the junior aurors trailed behind quickly and they headed for some privacy. Once out of the court room the aurors began guiding Mrs. Malfoy towards another department of the ministry for processing out of imprisonment.

"Thank you, my dear, for being hear. I will see you over the holidays, yes?" Mrs. Malfoy looked fondly on Draco, her face flushed from the adrenaline of the being pronounced innocent.

"Yes, of course, mother. Send me an owl once you get settled back in at the manor," he gave her upper arm an affectionate squeeze and she smiled proudly at her son.

"Yes, dear, I will as soon as I return." With that, she was swept away leaving Hermione and Draco in the bustling hall outside of the courtroom.

Without a word they both realized that they would need to get away before any reporters caught up to them and Draco quickly guided Hermione away, his hand on the small of her back protectively.

Draco peaked down at Hermione's face and she looked dead pleased with herself, really chuffed. He smirked.

"I don't think we would have seen the same result without you," he admitted.

"Oh nonsense," she fired back but he was sure that she knew it to be true.

"I've been a complete prat to you this week, you don't deserve that," he responded and she noticed that it wasn't exactly an apology.

"It's been a rough week, Malfoy. Now we can go back to hating each other," she meant that last bit as a joke but his expression turned serious.

"I don't think we can ever go back to that, Hermione," the way he said her name sent shivers down her spine straight to the spot where his large hand rested on her lower back, still guiding her down the halls even though it was no longer necessary.

As they turned the corner to go back to the long corridor of fireplaces, they very nearly bumped into someone and Draco dropped his hand.

"Draco, mate, good I was hoping to catch you before you left," a man that Hermione vaguely recognized said as he gripped Draco's shoulder in a friendly fashion.

"Adrian," Draco looked surprised and uncomfortable at the contact and glanced towards Hermione. "Um... you remember Hermione Granger," he said by means of an introduction.

"Yes of course, how could I forget, the brains of the golden trio," Adrian extended his hand towards Hermione with a seemingly genuine smile. "Adrian Pucey," he introduced himself.

Hermione shook his hand hesitantly as she remembered the man. He was a few years above them at Hogwarts and was at one point captain of the Slytherin Quidditch team. "Yes, of course. Pleasure to see you," she responded tentatively. He had gained some weight around his face and his hairline had receded ever so slightly, enough to make him look distinctly like an adult and no longer a schoolboy.

Adrian laughed, "I'm sure it isn't, but you're polite so I can't fault you for that."

Hermione blushed and she noticed that Draco had inched slightly in front of her in an almost territorial manner.

"Listen, I just wanted to let you know that Daphne and I are getting married," Adrian said addressing Draco, "and I wanted to invite you and your parents. I thought it would be better to tell you in person so you wouldn't be able to just ignore the invite. We want you there."

"Highly unlikely," Draco responded coldly. "I'm assuming Pansy will be the maid of honor?"

Hermione vaguely remembered that Pansy was close friends with another girl, Daphne Greengrass when they attended school. She could only assume that is who Adrian was referencing.

"No, well the maid of honor will be her sister, Astoria. Pansy will be in the wedding party, though." Adrian admitted sheepishly.

"I don't think it's a good idea," Draco said firmly. "You know what happened between us, I'm pretty sure Pansy would be pleased to never see my face again." Draco saw Adrian giving Hermione a side eyed expression, trying to determine whether she knew what they were referencing.

"Listen, mate, Pansy doesn't blame you," Adrian continued despite Draco's incredulous look, "she doesn't. We all used to be so close and we can't let the things that bastard did to us tear us apart."

Draco stared blankly at Adrian, "I will consider it, you can send the invitation to the manor." Draco tried to brush past Adrian with Hermione in tow but he reached out and gripped Draco's left arm.

"Please, Draco. It would mean a lot to Daphne if you were there."

"Very well," Draco responded without committing to anything and he walked briskly off towards the fireplaces leaving Adrian standing there with slumped shoulders.

Hermione hurried to keep up with them and they didn't comment on the encounter with his former house mate. Draco didn't want to let the interaction sully his good mood at the news of his mother being released. He did miss his old friends, but it was hard to think back on any memories with them as 'fond'. Even now in Slytherin house he was treated like a pariah. He was never close with any of the younger Slytherins and the distance between them only grew after the war when his father informed on everyone and their mother. He highly doubted that he would even go out for Quidditch when the season started up again. He wanted to put as much distance between himself and those he used to associate with, if only to garner some mental peace.

Before they knew it they were outside of McGonnagal's office ready to go their separate ways once again. Draco felt a pang of discomfort in his chest at the thought that he no longer had an excuse to talk to Hermione and that they would likely drift back apart, as seemed to be the natural order of things.

"Well, I'm pleased with how everything turned out," she offered awkwardly and he smirked at her.

"Yes, thank you again, Granger," he said and she was surprised at how genuine he sounded.

"Don't mention it," she smiled warmly, "Thought I think it would be safe for you to call me Hermione now."

"Don't push it," he said in a mock-stern voice and she let out a giggle. She internally raged on herself for standing in the hall and giggling with Draco Malfoy. He looked a little disturbed by the outburst but didn't mention it.

"If my opinion matters," she started, "I think you should go to your friends wedding."

His expression darkened, "well it's a good thing your opinion doesn't matter."

She looked affronted, "there is no reason to be cruel-"

"Apparently there is," he cut her off, "just because I've accepted your help doesn't mean I want you meddling in my personal affairs. Mind your own business," he sneered.

"You made it my business when you confided in me," she hissed back vehemently. "Or did you forget?"

His look morphed from dark to downright furious. "Now you're going to throw that in my face?"

"No! I'm just trying to tell you that you need closure at some point so you can stop hating yourself," she fired back.

He barked out a cold laugh. "Granger, lets get one thing straight. I will always hate myself. I will always hate you. It's the only thing I know how to do. Don't think you can change me, and please don't further embarrass yourself by trying."

Her face was red with anger, "You're right. I guess I'm an idiot for ever thinking that you could change. Don't forget that I've seen you this week, really seen you, and I know you aren't just the evil asshole you want everyone to think you are."

"God, you're pathetic," he bit back, "you think you know me because you saw me drunk?"

"No, I think I know you because I saw you vulnerable," she retorted, crossing her arms defiantly.

He stalked towards her menacingly, "how about I show you my dark side and prove you wrong?"

She rolled her eyes. "You aren't scaring anyone, Malfoy. You think that act will really work on me?" She turned around and stalked off before he had a chance to respond and he was left in the corridor fuming about not having the last word. He most certainly wouldn't lower himself to chasing after her, that would surely be worse than not having the last word.

He was determined to put this part of the school year behind him, he didn't want to waste anymore of his time thinking about the infuriating which who always managed to get him so heated.

...

The next morning at breakfast Hermione sat pushing her food around her plate with a fork. Draco didn't show up for dinner and he wasn't yet arrived for breakfast, though she was early, and she hoped that he hadn't returned to his nasty habit of not eating.

She had recounted the trial last night to Ginny in their dorm and fallen quickly to sleep, exhausted from dealing with Draco and his uncontrollable temper. She thought about the rest of the school year as she drifted off, she really had no reason to continue talking to Draco and she found herself slightly perturbed at the thought. This first part of the school year had been tumultuous but she found herself looking forward to seeing him. It was really sick, if you thought about it, because they either spent their time together in silence or bickering, with the singular exception of that time in the alcove. She shuddered.

The massive barn owl who normally delivered her morning paper gracefully dropped onto the Gryffindor table next to her, disturbing her train of thought. She untied the paper from his leg and deposited money into the pouch on his opposite leg before he flew off as quickly as he arrived, having other work to get to.

Ginny had just arrived with Romilda as Hermione unravelled her paper and began to scan the headlines, expecting to see something about the trial.

What Hermione didn't expect, however, was the massive front page headline " _War Hero Hermione Granger Gets Cozy with Ex-Deatheater_ " and a painfully large picture of her and Draco hugging on repeat after the verdict was read. Her hands were trembling as she read on.

 _Draco Malfoy's mother, Narcissa Malfoy, was pronounced innocent in yesterday's trial which wraps up the deatheater trials that had been ongoing since the fall of the dark lord. It doesn't look like that is the only reason Draco Malfoy has to celebrate though, as he seems to have developed an intimate relationship with non other than war hero Hermione Jean Granger..._

Hermione quickly dropped the paper, not interested in reading any further.

"Can you believe this?" she hissed to Ginny, passing the paper across the table to her.

Ginny scanned the picture and article with a smirk growing into a full blown grin on her face. "So it looks like you _were_ checking him out that day in potions-"

"Don't be silly, Ginny!" Hermione interrupted in a shrill voice. By now, she could hear the laughter and snide comments coming from Slytherin table as they all received their Saturday editions of the Daily Prophet. "God, we just shared a friendly _and platonic_ hug after the verdict was read. That is the extent of our physical contact. Now the Prophet has made it out to seem as if we've had some sordid love affair... Oh god, Ron is going to go berserk when he sees this." Hermione was rambling nervously.

"Hermione, calm down. You didn't let the articles bother you in fourth year when they were speculating about you and Krum. Why let this get to you? Everyone that knows you knows its not true." Ginny was a voice of reason amongst the tumult of Hermione's inner voices arguing on how best to do damage control.

"You're right," she sighed and her shoulders sank. "Best to just ignore it. That being said... I should probably get out of here and just wait out the storm of today back in the dorm."

"Probably a good idea," Ginny smirked and handed Hermione back her newspaper. "Here, you might want to save this so you and Draco can laugh about it with your future children," Ginny teased mercilessly and Hermione shot her a deadly look as she scuttled out of the great hall quickly.

Hermione nearly bowled over Draco Malfoy as he was lazily making his way to a late breakfast in the Great Hall.

"I wouldn't go in there if I were you," she warned.

"And why is that," he said in a tired and impatient voice. She thrust out the paper in front of her face and he was assaulted with the image of them embracing.

"You're kidding," he said in a flat voice as he took the paper form her to more closely examine the article.

"Wish I was, but I'm not," she signed as she turned to face the article with him, their shoulders barely touching as they stood side by side.

"Well, it isn't like I can become anymore of an outcast. Your reputation is quite thoroughly sullied though, so it looks like you've got the short end of the stick" he remarked.

"No I don't think so, the media can't make up their mind what to do with me anyway. After the war I was the cold virgin Granger who left Ron to return to school, now I'm deatheater slut Hermione throwing myself at any dark wizard I can get my hands on. I'm sure in another month I'll be back to frigid bitch."

Much to Hermione's surprise Draco was actually grinning at her comment. "So which is it really? Who is the real Hermione?" He gave her a lurid look and a familiar shiver shot down her spine.

"Well according to you I don't know you at all, so I suppose I it's only fair that you don't know anything about me," she snapped, grabbing the paper back from him.

"So I guess it's frigid bitch, then?" Draco called after her as she stalked off towards Gryffindor tower and he laughed quietly to himself at her retreating form.


	10. Chapter 10 - Victory

Ron surprisingly handled the Daily Prophet article in stride. Hermione had just bitten into a nice crispy piece of toast slathered in marmalade at Sunday's breakfast when Pigwidgeon swooped down upon the Gryffindor table in a tumble of feathers and panicked hoots.

Ginny looked over at Hermione nervously, recognizing Ron's owl. She did seem slightly relieved when she noticed it was a simple cream colored envelope and not the tell-tale red of a howler.

 _Hermione,_

 _I can only assume that the Prophet article is complete garbage, though I can't say I loved the picture of you and the ferret hugging. I can practically feel you rolling your eyes at that, so give me a break. This is me trying to trust you to take care of yourself, remember?_

 _Also, I've got a surprise for you. I'll be sending another owl tomorrow._

 _Ron_

Hermione re-read the short note and she felt a nervous flutter at the idea of Ron trying to surprise her.

"Well?" Ginny inquired with a mouth full of scrambled eggs and for a second she reminded Hermione so much of Ron that her heart hurt to not be sitting there with Ron and Harry.

"He took it quite well, I think he recognized the article for what it was - rubbish," Hermione said confidently and folded up the letter to stuff in a pocket in her robes.

"Wow," Ginny responded, "how very... mature of Ron."

"What you mean to say is how very unlike Ron," Hermione smirked and Ginny giggled.

"Yes, thats exactly it. When have you ever know to take that kind of thing so level-headed? Maybe he is up to something."

"Well he did say he has a surprise for me in the letter..." Hermione trailed off, wondering what the surprise could be.

"Interesting," Ginny raised her eyebrows. "Maybe he will finally give Draco a run for his money."

Hermione narrowed her eyes, "there is nothing to give Draco a run for his money for, there is nothing going on there! Less than nothing, really."

"Mhmm..." Ginny remarked offhandedly and looked towards her meal with a knowing smirk. If she was sitting on the same side of the table as Hermione this is where she would have swatted her indignantly.

Hermione spent the day reading by the lake, savoring the last bit of warm weather before autumn encroached on the grounds. Some days she loved to sit out by the lake, roll up her sleeves, and soak up some sun. She could observe Gryffindor team holding Quidditch tryouts from her vantage point. In the distance she could see Ginny's familiar streak of red hair whipping around the pitch.

For the second time that day Hermione longed to have Harry and Ron with her. She knew she made the right decision regarding returning to school but it didn't stop her from missing the constant companionship and camaraderie that they offered her.

...

Sunday evening rolled around before she knew it and she found herself back in the Great Hall awaiting the Sunday feast. Ginny was sitting opposite her as normal, freshly showered and red faced after tryouts. She was offered the position of captain but turned it down to focus on her head girl duties. Hermione felt a stab of jealousy as she observed Ginny, despite everything that happened in the war, despite losing a brother, she was on top of her game this year and excelling at everything she did.

Hermione, on the other hand, felt like she was floundering. Maybe Ginny was just more independent than she was, better able to thrive under pressure.

McGonagall stepped up the podium and magically amplified her voice, tapping her wand to get everyone's attention. A hush fell over the great hall, the headmistress didn't normally make announcements before meals so a sense of anticipation rippled over the crowd of hungry students.

"Attention students, I have an announcement to make," McGonagall addressed them. "Last year, as you all know, was very difficult for everyone in this hall and the wizarding world as a whole."

Hermione's eyes flickered over the Slytherin table before landing on a familiar shock of blonde hair. Draco looked up from the table and met her eyes just as she found him with hers. They both wore blank expressions. Hermione felt a chill and wrapped her school robes tighter around herself.

"This year has been a year of rebuilding and coming together," McGonagall continued, "we have many reasons to mourn the losses we have all faced. We also have reason to celebrate the victory that has been achieved." The Headmistress waved her wand and a large banner unleashed from the ceiling above the head table. It read "VICTORY" in bold metallic gold letters. "This year Hogwarts will be hosting a victory ball in November to celebrate the accomplishments of all the witches and wizards who played a part in the defeat of Lord Voldemort."

A visible shiver passed over the room as McGonagall spoke his name, but it was quickly replaced with cheers and the sound of students talking to each other excitedly about the ball.

"Hogwarts will be hosting many of the top ministry officials and the players who had a key role in taking down the Dark Lord's regime. We will be honoring those who were lost as well as those who sacrificed so much in order to contribute to the great victory. Including some of our own students." McGonagall's eyes grazed over Hermione who was still absorbing the news.

"Now, please enjoy the feast!" the Headmistress announced and with another wave of her wand the four house tables were filled with their normal Sunday night fare.

Hermione wasn't sure how to take this news, she was looking forward to putting the war behind her and they had been to many victory parties over the summer that she had her fill of them. She recalled the balls and Harry and Ron so smartly dressed in their crisp black dress robes. She recalled the scent of champagne on Ron's breath as he danced with her and Harry's laugh as they whispered jokes to each other during the countless boring speeches. She thought it was time to move on.

On the other hand, it could be sort of a form of closure for Hogwarts that it needed. All of the students could acknowledge the horrors of war and move on with their lives. If only it was so easy for everyone.

Hermione pushed away from the table and made to leave but Ginny gave her a questioning look.

"I think I'm going to head to the library," Hermione explained, "I still have so much to catch up on before I resume classes tomorrow. I'll bring the notes you leant me to breakfast tomorrow so you'll have them."

"Sure," Ginny said with a quick nod, "you okay?"

Hermione cursed Ginny for being so perceptive.

"Yes, of course," Hermione said with a forced smile and headed off towards the library.

...

She settled into the spot in the library she previously shared with Draco when they were preparing for his mother's trial. This wasn't her normal spot in the library but she had grown fond of it over the past few weeks.

This time she sat in the chair facing the window so she could admire the sparkling great lake as she worked. This was normally Draco's spot but as he wasn't here, she didn't think he would mind.

She was diligently copying Ginny's notes for the second time in order to commit everything to memory when she felt fingers just barely graze her shoulder and sweep aside her hair. She froze in her seat, quill hovering over the parchment she was just about to write on.

A breath of air danced over her ear and a silky smooth voice said, "you certainly rushed off after dinner."

She knew it was Malfoy before he even spoke but hearing his silky voice made her whole body tense up.

He dropped the hair he swept away and chuckled as he slumped into the chair opposite her.

"What do you want, Malfoy? Come to ask me to the ball," she said with a teasing smirk.

"Do you really think I would be welcome at that ball? Perhaps I should stay as far away as possible."

Hermione frowned. "You should still go, you can't just disappear into the shadows of society."

"Watch me," he said dejectedly and twisted in his chair to look out the window. "You've taken my seat."

"Yes well, I didn't expect to see you here on a Sunday evening," she admitted sheepishly.

"I come here a lot now, you know. You don't have a monopoly on the library," he said haughtily. "I was here all day, now you're intruding on my personal space, sitting in my seat."

"If it means that much to you then, I'll find another table to sit at," she said in a huff as she began to gather her parchment and Ginny's notes.

"You don't belong all cooped up in here," he said. "You looked quite fetching all sprawled out down by the lake today." A smirk tugged a the corner of his lips as his eyes were still fixed on the great lake below.

A blush creeped up her neck and spread over her face. "What were you doing, watching me all day? And I don't think I care for you telling me where I 'belong'. We've been down that road before."

"Not all day," he admitted, ignoring her last comment. "For some reason I can't force you out of my brain, Granger. You show up everywhere, all bushy hair and brown eyes."

Hermione hesitated and looked up at him. His expression and posture were relaxed. He sleeves were rolled up and his knees slightly apart as if he was lounging comfortably in the small wooden chair.

"What do you want me to do about that, Malfoy?" she asked.

"Nothing, I suppose. It's more of a personal problem really. You show me a little affection and tenderness and now all I can think about is your bloody hand squeezing mine," he said.

Hermione reached out and grasped his left hand in both of hers and he looked up at her with suddenly pained expression.

"Malfoy, you know that just because the trial is over it doesn't mean we can't still talk."

"Well I'm seeking a bit more than talking, Granger," he said in a strained voice and Hermione suddenly felt very warm. She hoped he was only referring to the hand holding.

She gave his hands a quick squeeze and pulled hers away, his hand lay still and upturned on the table were she left it.

"Perhaps its best if we don't talk at all," he said quietly. "I've already sullied your reputation with that Prophet article-"

"I'm really tired of people trying to tell me whats best for me," Hermione said, suddenly furious. "If I want to talk to you, I'll talk to you."

"We aren't meant to be friends, Hermione. It's too late. Our lives have not led us to this point to become friends, not after everything between us. I sat by and watch you be tortured for fucks sake." His hands were balled into fists and she couldn't tell if he was more angry at her or himself.

"Yeah and I've seen you as a bouncing ferret. We've seen each other at our worst moments, and sometimes thats part of being a friend. Seeing that and still accepting each other," she retorted.

"You haven't seen my worst moments, Granger," he said darkly. "If you saw my worst moments you wouldn't be sitting there so calmly. You wouldn't be able to hold in the contents of your stomach if you saw what I did. If you had the visual in your mind," he was practically vibration with barely restrained emotion, he looked mangled.

"Draco," she tried to reach out to take his hand again as this usually calmed him down but he snatched it away. "I don't know how many more times I can say that I don't hold that against you. And I don't think Pansy will either, but you'll have to talk to her-"

"Don't," he hissed. "Don't try to be a know-it-all, not about this. You have no fucking clue, Granger. You didn't see the look in her eyes... after. She doesn't want anything to do with me."

Hermione stood up abruptly and tossed her things into her school bag. She stalked over to the side of the small table Draco was sitting and grasped his shoulders.

"You need to snap out of it!" she said harshly. "We all need to move on with our lives now that the war is over. You have to put it behind you."

He rose to his feet quickly and she jumped back, startled. He moved forward quickly, causing her to stumble backwards until her back was pressed into a nearby book shelf. He grasped both of her wrists and pinned her there.

Her eyes grew wide as she looked up at him, curiously.

He looked down at her, rage painted all over his face. "You don't even have enough commons sense to be afraid of me," he hissed, gripping her wrists tighter.

"I'm not afraid of you, Draco. I'm trying to show you that you aren't a bad person," she retorted defiantly, jutting her chin up.

He pressed his body into hers and very warm and distinctly not-fear sensation rolled up in her stomach and she cringed. He mistook her cringe for disgust and he smirked.

"Get off me," she hissed in a low cold voice.

"No, I'm trying to teach you a lesson. You should be afraid of me," he ran his hands up her arms and down the side of her body, just narrowly missing her breasts as they came to rest on her hips.

"This isn't you," she said furiously and put her hands on his chest, trying to push him away.

He stepped back, sighing with frustration. He wanted to frighten her away, but he wouldn't go any further. His whole body was shaking and he leaned back against a nearby table for stability.

"Maybe you are the one that should be afraid of me," she said furiously, "I'm clearly unstable enough to turn to Draco Malfoy for friendship."

He looked up and studied her. Her hair was in a frizzy mess and the candlelight from behind her lit up her tendrils like a wild halo. Her fists were balled at her side and she leaned towards him as if she were trying to be intimidating.

He suddenly laughed and she looked at him, scandalized.

"Why are you laughing?!" she questioned, still with a furious tone in her voice, not getting the joke in the situation.

"You just look so cute when you're all riled up," he smirked.

"You're kidding," she said in a dead pan voice.

He shrugged and resumed a more casual stance, his previous rage subsiding.

"God you're so infuriating, Malfoy," she sighed and sank back against the book shelf, sliding to the floor and resting her elbows on her knees and her head in her hands.

He walked over and sat down next to her, crossing his legs stretched out in front of him and leaning his head back against the shelf.

She lifted her head and looked over at him, "do you think that you could have one normal day without these insane mood swings?"

He smirked, reached out, and grabbed her small hand in his and squeezed. She sighed and leaned her head onto his shoulder next to her, closing her eyes.

"I'll take your non-answer as a no," she huffed.

"I'll take the fact that your still here as evidence that I'll not be able to scare you off," he whispered and reached over to her face, tucking the hair that had fallen in front of it behind her ear.

She shivered and scooted closer to him, enjoying the feeling of his company. "Nope," she confirmed.

They sat like that for a few more minutes, he savored the feeling of her hand, brushing his thumb over her knuckles. Her head slipped down from his shoulder and slightly onto his chest, he realized she was nodding off and he chuckled. The soft rumble of his laughter caused her to jolt away and nearly smack her head into his chin.

"I've got to get to bed, we have a long week of catching up on classes ahead of us," she said quietly. She stood and gathered her things, exiting without another word or a glance at him.

His hand hovered on the warm spot on the hardwood floor were she sat next to him and he sighed deeply, hanging his head.

...

The next morning Pigwidgeon flopped next to her breakfast plate as promised and Hermione disentangled Ron's letter from the mess of feathers.

She offered him some breakfast sausage as thanks and quickly unfurled the letter.

 _Hermione,_

 _To make up for being such a prat during our fourth year before the Yule ball, I formally invite you to be my date to Hogwart's Victory ball._

 _There, now I've asked you before anyone else has had the chance, you have to accept._

 _Ron_

Hermione flushed red and for some reason she looked up and her eyes went straight to Draco, he looked at her curiously as he poked at his own breakfast and she averted her gaze back to the offending letter.

"Well, what is the surprise?" Ginny questioned excitedly, remembering Ron's letter to Hermione from the previous morning.

"Ron has asked me to the Victory Ball, him and Harry must have already known about it." As she said this an owl they recognized as Harry's swooped in and gracefully landed next to Ginny. "I would hazard a guess that would be Harry asking you to the ball," Hermione smiled.

Ginny excitedly tore the letter from the owl's leg and devoured it's contents as her eyes darted across the parchment, lighting up.

Hermione took the distraction as an opportunity to escape and she quickly exited the great hall, her stomach a bundle of nerves.

In fourth year she had wanted nothing more than to have Ron ask her to the ball. Now she wasn't sure. Ron had acted so selfishly since the end of the war, taking everything he needed from her and giving nothing in return. He barely showed any affection towards her outside of the two times they slept together, and he certainly never talked about having any kind of future with her. Now he was reaching out with this kind gesture and she couldn't help but to think bitterly that it was too little too late.

Hermione tried to put it out o her mind as she rushed off to be early to her first class of the day.


	11. Chapter 11 - Necklace

Life continued on as normal at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Well, as normal as life could possibly be for nineteen year old war hero Hermione Granger. After their encounter in the library, Malfoy seemed to be avoiding her and she was resolved not to push the issue. If he didn't want to accept her offer of friendship, she certainly wasn't going to shove it down his throat.

Hermione eventually replied to Ron's letter accepting his offer of escorting her to the victory ball. She wasn't exactly thrilled at the prospect of attending another ball, and somehow Ron as her date didn't manage to stir any feelings of anticipation in her.

Sure, she was thrilled to be able to see her two best friends at Hogwarts again, likely along with a lot of their old schoolmates who contributed to the war effort, but celebrations like this were always such a tedious affair.

Ginny of course had been raving about the ball ever since it was announced almost a month ago. Hermione was beginning to suspect that Ginny was always looking for the next distraction to take her mind off of her losses. Head girl duties, quidditch, Harry, and now the ball.

As they sat in potions class, Ginny was busy sketching out what she wanted her dress for the ball to look like, she was placing a custom order with Madam Malkin's for the event. Ginny was not short on dresses after all of the events she attended over the summer, but she wanted to throw herself fully and wholly into preparations for the ball.

"Do you think the feathers are too much?" Ginny whispered low enough that Slughorn couldn't hear, addressing Hermione.

Hermione glanced over at Ginny's drawing and she couldn't help but think that Ginny had perhaps missed her calling as a fashion designer because the concept certainly looked stunning. A simple floor length gown with feather details at the waist and shoulders that almost reminded Hermione of a costume she had once seen for a production of Swan Lake when she was young. Minus the tutu, obviously.

"It's stunning," Hermione whispered encouragingly as she leaned in to get a closer look. The dress was form-fitting with a plunging neckline without looking trashy, Ginny would truly look great in it.

"It will be blue of course, you know how warm tones clash with my hair," Ginny explained as she filled in some more details with her quill. "I'm thinking black for the feathers."

Hermione immediately was filled with anxiety trying to imagine what she would wear to the ball. She made a splash in fourth year with her dress, how could she ever top that? Would she even want all that attention to be focused in on her?

She hated the fact that her next thought was surrounding what Draco would think of her. Ron certainly didn't have the attention to detail to notice if she was wearing a ball gown or a potato sack.

She resolved not to look over in his direction, remembering that last time she'd done so she had been accused of checking him out.

Hermione was itching to get out of class by the time that Slughorn dismissed them and she gathered her things in a hurry.

"Granger, wait up," Draco hurried to keep up with her as she darted out of the classroom. They both stood in the hallway awkwardly facing each other but not making eye contact as the rest of the students flowed around them like a river around a small island, off to their next class.

Hermione looked at him expectantly as the last of the students filtered off and they remained alone in the damp dungeon hallway.

"Yes?" she questioned. She suddenly felt very uneasy, he had not initiated a conversation with her in weeks. Their entire relationship consisted of sneaking glances at each other across the Great Hall at meal times and on rare occasions in the one class they shared, potions.

"I have something for you," he started and guided her by the elbow into an empty storeroom across from the potions room.

"And this thing requires me to be shuffled into a broom closet?" she said indignantly, but curiosity won out and she let him usher her into the small room.

"Well, I don't like people knowing my private affairs," he smirked.

She tried not to read into the word 'affair' and muttered a quick 'lumos' to add more light to the room as Draco closed the door behind them.

"I've been thinking about the ball, about what you said," he began and her curiosity went beyond simply piqued. "You're right, I can't disappear from society."

"Well I'm happy, Malfoy. I'm surprised you listened to anything I say," she smiled.

He ignored that and continued. "I want to escort you," he said with a casual confidence that only he could pull off. It wasn't a question.

"Oh, well... that's certainly unexpected," she breathed.

"So you accept? My name is already mud in pureblood society, so I figure there is no need to pretend that I've gone on hating you-"

"What did you say?" she interrupted him, feeling as though she had been punched in the gut.

"I'm saying that I don't hate you, as you've so kindly pointed out before - you are likely my only friend here at Hogwarts."

"How very fucking kind of you, Malfoy," she said coldly and he stepped back in surprise at her harsh reaction. "I'm so happy that you're name is mud already so you couldn't possibly muddy it up any further by showing up at the ball with a mudblood." She spat the last word with as much venom as she could muster with her quavering voice.

"No..." he whispered, reaching out to grab her hands but she ripped them away from him. "Hermione, that isn't want I meant at all."

"What else could you possibly mean?!" she hissed. "You don't talk to me in a month then suddenly you trap me in here to inform me that I'm going to the ball with you, because it appears that I'm your only option now that all your little pureblood friends now think you're scum."

He opened his mouth to respond, but hesitated and she took the moment of hesitation to continue.

"You are a real piece of work," she was nearly shaking with fury. "Just for the record, this isn't how friendship works, Malfoy."

"Listen, Hermione," he used her name for the second time to day and she tried to ignore the lightness in her stomach every time he uttered it. "I'm sorry... I really am. I didn't mean to say that you would sully my reputation. I just meant... that my previous prejudices are no longer an issue."

She tried to calm the raging sea of her emotions, he was looking quite pathetic standing there with his arms out in apology and that helped her to subside her fury.

"I'm already attending the ball with Ronald, so you're too late. Though if this is how you ask girls to the ball, I wouldn't have said yes anyway," she said in a huff.

"Weasley?" he spat.

"Yes, you prat," she tried to shove past him out of the room but he managed to angle himself in front of her to halt her progress momentarily.

"Wait," he said quickly, now realizing that this entire encounter was not going as he had planned.

"At least... accept this." He pulled out a slender black box from his robes and her heart began to beat faster, what could Malfoy possibly have for her?

He cracked open the box and inside was an expensive looking black velvet lining and an even more expensive looking necklace. It was white gold with an intricate diamond encircled tear drop shaped emerald. The emerald was massive and sparkling pristinely in its bed of velvet.

"Draco..." she whispered hesitantly, frozen in place.

"It's mostly from Mother, she wanted to give you a token to express her gratitude for helping me with her trial. Its an old family heirloom and I thought it would be... fitting, to have you wear it. The long line of Malfoy men before me are probably turning in their graves at the thought of this emerald gracing the neck of such a capable and intelligent muggle born witch." He was smirking again, clearly thinking very highly of himself for offering her such a lovely and expensive gift.

"I couldn't possibly take this Malfoy-"

"I've already combed it over for any dark curses, and I can personally attest that it is clean," he said assuredly.

"No, that's not what I mean," she said shaking her head. "I can't possibly accept a gift like this, its too much."

"Nonsense," he said as he removed it from the box. "It's perfect for you, it would only due to for you to have it. Mother has so many necklaces she could wear a unique one every day for the rest of her life." He unclasped the small hook and stepped towards her, he gestured towards her neck as if to say 'May I?'

Hermione gulped and reached back, lifting her mass of hair off her neck and he moved behind her, draping the necklace in front of her and clasping it. He gently placed the necklace against her neck and the metal felt cold against her flushed skin. He lingered behind her, his fingers brushing over the sensitive skin of her neck and he smoothed the baby hairs that had escaped her grasp when she lifted her curls.

She was breathing shallow breaths, afraid to move. He gently pulled her hair from her hands and she let her arms fall to her sides. His hands were now on her shoulders and he leaned into her ear.

"See? Perfect fit," he whispered.

She reached up to touch the emerald that was now resting on the front of her school jumper and she tried not think how silly she looked with such an expensive and flashy piece of jewelry and her plain school robes. Electricity seemed to run through her fingers as she touched it and she had trouble believing that it was clean of any magical influence.

"I absolutely can't, Malfoy," she said into thin air as he still stood behind her with his hands on her shoulders.

"You absolutely can, and you will," he chuckled and she seemed to melt backwards into his body as his deep voice rumbled in her ear.

His breath hitched in his throat at the feeling of her leaning into him. She was molded against him, the only barrier being their school robes.

"Even if you attend the ball with Weasley, I want you to be wearing the necklace that I gave you," he whispered, his lips were just barely brushing against her ear lobe with every word.

She wasn't sure if it was his lips against her ear or the fact that he was acting so... possessive, but her blood was pumping a little warmer and a littler faster than it had done only a moment ago.

"I want you to remember that its from me as you are dancing and laughing with him. Please." His lips lingered at her ear even after he was done speaking.

"Fine," she said with a sigh.

"Good," he said, still whispering. "Mother will be well pleased that you've accepted our gift." He slid one hand to her neck and ran his finger tips over the heavy chain, his thumb brushing over the pulse on her neck and she very nearly gasped. "I have to admit, I thought it would take more convincing."

"I've got to get to my next class, Malfoy," she said though she didn't make any moves to exit the room.

"Of course," he whispered, his fingers running slightly lower over the chain. His lips were remained against her ear and she could have sworn that he dragged his teeth against her ear lobe, ever so faintly.

She was paralyzed in his arms. Electricity crackled in the air of the musty store room. Hermione raised her hand up to hesitantly touch his hand that was sliding down the chain of the necklace.

The sound of students arriving for the next session in the potions dungeon snapped them out of their intimate moment and Hermione stepped away. A wash of cold air filled the space between them and Draco released her. He adjusted his robes to conceal the hard-on he was now proudly sporting.

She tried not to let her thoughts linger on what would have happened if they hadn't snapped out of it. Even after their encounter in the library, this was far more intimate of a position then they've been in before.

She slipped the necklace underneath the neckline of her jumper as to not draw attention to herself throughout the rest of the day and she straightened her hair.

"I'm sorry again, for what I said," he said quickly and she slipped out the small room choosing not to acknowledge his parting words. She managed to stealthily close the door behind her, going unnoticed by the other students in the hall.

He remained behind a moment to not appear as though they were emerging from the closet together. He had a free period next which he was eternally grateful for. He needed to make an urgent trip to the prefects bathrooms to take care of the rather painful erection he was left with.

She moved quickly to put as much distance between her and Malfoy as possible as she gulped the fresh air of the hallway. The necklace felt heavy against her chest and she was furious with herself for accepting it, she just wasn't able to say no to him in that moment no matter how hard she tried.

When Hermione finally arrived to Transfiguration she was out of breath and managed to slip into her seat right before Professor McGonagall stood to begin the lesson.

Ginny looked at her inquisitively but she didn't dare whisper to her like she did in Slughorn's class. McGonagall was ten times less forgiving and much more likely to pick up on their hushed conversation.

Hermione mouthed, "I'll tell you later." Ginny seemed to accept this and they both turned their attention to the front of the room for the lesson.

Mcgonagall droned on about the properties of transfiguring non-living objects into living creatures and for once Hermione couldn't bring herself to focus on the lesson.

...

"Bloody hell!" Ginny exclaimed loudly later that evening when they were safely back in their dorm when Hermione presented the necklace to Ginny for her appraisal.

Hermione gave her a stern look at the curse but allowed Ginny to handle the necklace and get a closer look.

"And he just gave this to you out of nowhere?" she said, looking up at Hermione.

"Like I said, he said it was a gift from him and his mother for helping with her trial," she explained and sank back onto her bed with a sigh. "I shouldn't have accepted it," she lamented it, falling back onto the mattress.

"Bollocks!" Ginny said with a mischievous smirk. "Maybe this is Malfoy's way of apologizing for being a prat for eight years."

When Hermione recounted the story to Ginny she conveniently left out the part where Draco also asked her to accompany him to the Victory Ball, she didn't want any chance of that getting around to Ron due to the reaction it would likely garner from him.

"Ron is going to lose his mind if you wear this to the ball," Ginny remarked as if reading Hermione's mind. She held the necklace up to the light to examine it from another angle.

"Well, he won't know its from Malfoy unless you or I tell him, and I certainly don't plan on letting him in on that tidbit of information!"

"Right, right. Best we keep this between us... and Malfoy," Ginny grinned and handed the necklace back over. Hermione quickly tucked it away in drawer of the small table next to her bed for safe keeping.

"I just can't figure out what he is playing at," Hermione moaned. "He exerts all this energy to avoid me and then he goes and gives me an insanely expensive gift."

"Well you already know my opinion on the topic," Ginny said with the familiar mischievous glint in her eye, "he clearly fancies you. He just has too many years of ingrained hatred to be able to outright admit it. The tension between the two of you is palpable."

Hermione rolled her eyes, "I don't think he fancies me, he can barely stand to be around me for more than five minutes without us bickering."

"Exactly," Ginny nodded as if this confirmed everything, "he has no other outlet for his frustrations until you two can finally shag."

Hermione made over exaggerated gagging sounds and threw a pillow at Ginny which hit her squarely in the face. They both erupted into giggles and Hermione was completely incredulous at the fact that they were even discussing the prospect of Draco Malfoy fancying her, it was unprecedented. She hoped for everyone involved's sake that Ginny wouldn't mention any of this to Harry who would surely pass the information on to Ron.

She didn't necessarily owe anything to Ron, but she didn't fancy seeing the infamous hot head's reaction to any of this.

Romilda entered the dormitory and Ginny and Hermione tried to act casually as if they hadn't just been discussing Draco Malfoy.

Hermione grabbed a Madam Malkin's catalog from Ginny's bedside table and began to flip through it. She supposed it was time to start shopping for an emerald green dress.

"Excited for the ball, Hermione?" Romilda questioned, seeing the catalog.

"Yes... I think I am," Hermione admitted with a smirk.

...

 **So I've released three chapters in rapid fire progression because I've had a long weekend from work. It was very cathartic to get these out of my system! Thanks again to my reviewers for your input, and I would love to hear what everyone thinks about the Victory Ball (and what you would like to see take place there).**

 **Leave a review!**


	12. Chapter 12 - The Ball

The following month flew by without incident. Draco had gone from ignoring Hermione to at least acknowledging her existence, which was an improvement. During potions class he made an effort to visit the supply cabinet at the same time as her, on occasion their hands would brush as they reached for the same ingredient and he would smirk at her. She decided that he was certainly doing this on purpose.

Ginny continued to tease her relentlessly about the necklace and about the crush that Ginny was certain Draco Malfoy had on her friend. Hermione had learned to ignore the teasing but somewhere deep inside of her grew warm at the thought of Draco having feelings for her.

Seeing him so broken down during his mother's trial had opened up a huge soft spot in her for the former deatheater. She knew that despite his posturing and attempts at appearing like an evil bastard, he was completely changed from the brat who bullied her in their youth. At least she hoped she could trust her gut on this one.

...

Before they knew it, it was time for the ball.

Ginny had been fretting over her own dress for the past month, but now that Hermione saw her in the immaculate navy blue gown, she felt slightly envious of the red head's fashion sense and confidence. Ginny wore her hair down in loose waves and she emphasized the dark look with heavy smokey eye makeup.

Ginny had helped Hermione pick out an elegant emerald green satin dress but now that Hermione was standing in their dorm actually wearing the dress, she felt exposed and nervous.

The dress was simple and without frills, it was floor length and made of the most luxurious, yet painfully thin, satin Hermione had ever felt. The halter top of the dress allowed for an extremely low cut back and the luxurious fabric swept around her derrière and dropped away to the floor. The neckline wasn't as low cut as Ginny's but it wasn't exactly modest and was a perfect frame for the emerald necklace which sat heavily against her exposed chest, stopping to rest just above her cleavage. She completed the ensemble with strappy silver stiletto sandals.

Hermione chose a simple french knot for her hair, allowing some tendrils out to frame her face. She went subtle on her makeup being as that she normally didn't wear any and she still wanted to somewhat resemble herself.

"Ron is going to drop dead when he sees you," Ginny commented as she helped Hermione put the finishing touches on her makeup in front of the mirror.

"Please," Hermione responded with an eye roll, "ten galleons says that his first comment will be in regards to the color of my dress being green."

Ginny smirked, "well, he can't argue that you look bloody brilliant in green."

Somewhere in the back of Hermione's mind she wondered what Draco would think about green being 'her color'.

The two girls finished getting ready and quickly hurried down to the ball. As they approached the entrance hall Hermione spotted Harry and Ron standing side by side looking sharp in their dress robes. Harry wore simple black dress robes trimmed with navy blue, he and Ginny must have coordinated ahead of time. Ron wore crisp black dress robes which were a significant improvement over his second hand dress robes from the Yule Ball in fourth year.

"Bloody hell," Ron murmured as they approached. He quickly closed the distance between Hermione and himself and embraced her. He pulled back with his hands still at her waist, "you look stunning!"

"Thank you, Ronald, you don't look so bad yourself," Hermione responded, acutely aware of Ron's finger tips on her exposed back.

"Interesting color choice," he remarked. At this, Ginny and Hermione made knowing eye contact.

Ginny was soon scooped up by Harry and they shared a deep and desperate kiss. Hermione looked away uncomfortably and Ron made gagging sounds.

"Alright you two, cut it out, we have a ball to get to!" Ron said, breaking them apart in typical big brother fashion.

They entered the Great Hall and Hermione noted that the decorations were up to the usual Hogwarts standard. Beautiful and intricate gold and silver decorations covered the walls and the ceiling was a gorgeous night sky with multiple shooting stars streaking across at any time.

Ron and Harry led them over to a group of their friends and Hermione took turns embracing and greeting everyone. Neville was there with Luna, both looking so much older than Hermione had remembered. All of the Weasley siblings with their significant others were present, with the exception of George.

"Where is George?" Hermione whispered to Ron so that no one else would hear.

"Oh... he said um... that he didn't think it would be right for him to come back to Hogwarts without Fred. So he opted out," Ron said quietly in Hermione's ear and she felt her chest constrict at the thought that Hogwarts would never again have the pleasure of the Weasley twins gracing the halls.

As they chatted and exchanged pleasantries with Neville and Luna, Hermione noticed Draco enter the hall with his date. He looked fetching in his dress robes with his blonde hair slicked back, reminiscent of the way he wore it when they were young. His date was a sixth year Slytherin girl that Hermione couldn't put a name to, but she instantly felt something akin to jealousy seeing his hand on the small of her back as he led her into the hall.

The music soon started up and the party was in full swing. Despite the fact that the occasion was marking the end to a particularly brutal and violent war, people were in very high spirits. Even the teachers were getting in on the celebration. The highlight of the ball was certainly when Hagrid convinced McGonagall to dance and he nearly picked her up off her feet as he led her clumsily around the dance floor.

Harry and Ginny appeared to be in their own world, dancing slow to every song tucked away at the corner of the dance floor. They rarely got time together like this with Ginny still being at Hogwarts and it was obvious how much they missed each other.

"May I have this dance?" Ron questioned Hermione as the tempo of the music changed to a slow song and she had just wrapped up dancing to an upbeat song with Luna and Neville.

"Yes of course," Hermione smoothed her dress as she followed Ron to an empty spot on the floor. He took her left hand in his right and put his right hand delicately on her waist.

"You really do look stunning tonight, Hermione," he said in a low and serious voice. "Absolutely breathtaking."

"Well, thank you, it only took Ginny four or five tries to get my hair to cooperate," Hermione responded.

Ron smirked and pulled her closer so their bodies were flush together. Hermione felt a nervous feeling at the pit of her stomach. In that moment it was never so clear to her that she didn't belong with Ron. They just didn't... fit together. Not that she prescribed to some girlish notion that she needed to fit together like a puzzle piece with her beloved as they rode off into the sunset, but she would like to feel something other than uneasiness when she is pulled against a man.

"I can't wait for your school year to be over," he whispered to her, his nose brushing across the loose tendrils of hair that escaped from the french knot.

Hermione didn't respond to this, she mostly had feelings of anxiety surrounding post-Hogwarts life and she was perfectly content to remain a student forever. Surrounded by books and learning.

"Auror training is going well, me and Harry should both be passed out of training in January. I was thinking maybe me and you could get an apartment together after you graduate. I know Harry will be looking to move in with Ginny as soon as possible, and I am a strong man but I know I wouldn't make it one day living with the two of them," he chuckled.

"Oh... Ron, I'm not sure that would be appropriate," Hermione shifted her weight so their bodies were angled apart as they moved slowly around the dance floor.

"And why not?" he asked hotly.

"I don't know... we aren't together. We bicker all the time. It wouldn't be like you and Harry living together," she responded defensively.

"Well I should hope it isn't like me and Harry living together, I don't shag Harry," he smirked.

She froze, her whole body going stiff and she was suddenly disgusted to be in his arms.

"Ron, we are not together. You... we slept together over the summer in moments of weakness. We never discussed anything beyond that. I don't think of you in that way."

He looked like he had been punched in the stomach at her words and she had the smallest amount of regret for being so harsh.

"Hermione... I thought that..." he took a deep breath to gather his thoughts. "I thought that you would wait for me. That after you graduated we could pick up where we left off."

"Where we left off?" she bit out harshly. "We didn't leave off anywhere, you never tried to have a discussion about us or commit anything to me. You never asked me to wait for you, and I certainly never planned to."

Ron looked gutted and Hermione stood her ground. She wouldn't live her life like this, Ron always assumed that she would be there for him and she would as a friend, but she wouldn't stand for that in a romantic relationship. She deserved to be made a priority, not something that Ron just assumed would happen for him.

"I need some air," she said, suddenly feeling claustrophobic. She disentangled from Ron's arms and rushed off before he could say anything.

She walked purposefully out of the Great Hall and through the entrance hall, her satin dress whipping around her legs with every stride. She felt like a great weight had been lifted off of her shoulders as she put distance between herself and Ron.

When she finally reached the courtyard she took a deep breath of fresh air.

The courtyard was beautifully decorated with fairy lights and massive plants that weren't normally there. She circled the makeshift garden, trying to gather her thoughts before stopping at the opposite edge of the courtyard where she could overlook the lake.

She felt another presence behind her and somehow she knew it was Draco without turning around.

His fingers skimmed over her exposed lower back and she felt something that was wholly the opposite of what she felt when Ron's fingers were on her back.

"You look absolutely singular," he said in a breathless voice from right behind her. "There is nothing I can even compare you to. Positively beautiful."

She smiled and turned around to face him, leaning back against the low brick wall.

"What are you doing out here?" she asked. "The party is in there. I'm sure your date is getting lonely."

"I couldn't very well stand to watch Weasley groping you any longer," he said darkly. "And my date will be fine, she was more interested in her friends than me anyway."

He stepped towards her and reached out, his finger tips just barely brushed against the swell of her breast as he scooped up the emerald to examine it. Her breath caught in her throat and she looked up to search his face. He looked impassive.

"This emerald suits you perfectly, as I said it would," he said confidently.

"Yes, thank you," she said and wished that she had something, anything, more eloquent to say.

"No thanks necessary, it was a gift to show appreciation for your assistance," he released it and the necklace fell back to her chest. "Besides, only a face like yours could outshine such a jewel."

She blushed furiously.

"My, aren't you the charmer tonight?" She tucked a tendril of her hair behind her ear nervously.

"Oh, if I'm trying to charm you, you will know it," he said with a smirk and she got the distinct impression that he was correct. "I'm merely stating facts."

He closed the small space between them, bringing his left hand up to cup her face. Her eyes fluttered shut as she leaned into his touch.

"Do you want to be charmed by me?" he whispered and the combination of his deep voice and a gust of cold air over her exposed back caused her to break out into chills.

"I'm not sure," she whispered and opened her eyes, "by this Draco, yes of course. But I'm never sure which version of you I'm going to get."

"I know," his shoulders sunk, "and you have been endlessly patient with me. I'm trying."

"You shouldn't have to try to be nice," she quipped. His hand still cupped her face and her eyes flickered over his lips briefly. He noticed her glance and his eyes grew dark and hungry.

"You infuriate me," he responded. "You're so intelligent and kind and I've hated you for so long. Now all I want to do anymore is kiss you. It is hard to reconcile."

"That sounds like a personal problem, Draco," she smirked.

He gave her a low and playful growl and his mouth slowly descended towards hers. He paused just centimeters away from her face as they heard heavy footsteps approaching.

"Come away from him, Hermione," Ron commanded.

Draco sighed frustratedly and turned to face Ron, his body half blocked Hermione from Ron's view.

"Why don't you mind your own business, Weasel?" Draco said casually despite the barely contained rage that was filling him.

"I'm not talking to you, ferret," Ron said hotly. "Hermione, come away from him." He held his hand out to motion for Hermione to come to him. He was shaking from adrenaline and anger.

"Ron, you can't command me about," Hermione said in an exasperated voice.

Harry and Ginny were now arriving on the scene, they must have noticed Ron's mood after Hermione left the hall and knew he would be getting himself up to trouble.

"Ron, come on mate," Harry said, trying to tug Ron back into the school. "It isn't worth it. You know Hermione can take care of herself."

Ron shook Harry off and kept his arm outstretched towards Hermione.

"Hermione, I'm not even going to ask you what you are doing out here with this fucking rapist. I just want you to come back inside with me," he pleaded.

At the word 'rapist' Draco stiffened and his demeanor became cold and closed off. He slowly turned towards Hermione.

"You told them?" Draco's voice was deadly calm.

"No! Draco, no. They... the aurors know that something happened between you and Pansy and-" Hermione started but Ron cut her off.

"YOU KNEW?!" Ron roared. "Please tell me it isn't true," he began pacing and looking manic. "Hermione, you knew he was a rapist and you were standing there in his arms willingly? Please tell me it isn't true, please tell me he didn't confess to you and you still let him fucking touch you."

"Ron, it really isn't any of your business," she said flatly, trying to think of any way to get control of this situation.

"Are you fucking daft? Of course it's my business when deatheater rapist scum is running his hands over my girlfriend," Ron's expression was tortured and his entire body hummed with fury.

"I'm not your girlfriend," she responded calmly.

"I just can't understand how you could stand to be in his presence, knowing what you know," Ron continued, ignoring her comment. "Were you hoping to get in on the action yourself?"

Ginny gasped at Ron's words and Harry stepped forward, deciding if he would have to throw himself between Ron and Draco.

"Though I guess it's not considered rape if you are throwing yourself at him" Ron finished callously.

Draco turned on Ron before Hermione could process what it was that Ron was even saying to her.

"I will kill you, Weasley," Draco said, his voice still that dangerous and deadly calm that made Hermione fear for Ron's life. Draco drew his wand from his robes and leveled it at Ron's chest.

Ron clumsily responded by grabbing his wand and aiming it at Draco but he was shaking and nervous, looking nothing like the auror that he was training to be.

Harry quickly put his arm on Ron's shoulder. "It isn't worth it, mate. Don't do this now, we are adults, this is serious."

Ron shook him off for the second time and tried to steady his shaking wand arm.

Draco was breathing heavily but he remained eerily calm with his wand pointing squarely at Ron's heart. Hermione finally snapped out of her haze and grasped Draco's raised elbow.

"Please, Draco... don't do this," she suddenly was gripped with fear, Draco really looked in that moment as if he was capable of murdering her best friend. Or, ex-best friend rather, she doubted they would ever come back from the things that Ron was saying tonight.

He ignored her and kept his wand trained straight ahead.

Something in her mind clicked and she reached down, removing her own wand from a leg strap under her dress. Ginny thought she was insane for insisting to hide her wand under her gown but the war taught her nothing if not to always be prepared.

She jabbed her wand under Draco's ribs and his gaze faltered, he looked over towards her with a shocked expression.

"Lower your wand, Draco, I mean it. I'm not going to stand by and watch you get into a deadly fight over a schoolboy rivalry," she said in the best authoritative voice she could muster.

"This is a bit more than that, Hermione," he said, but he slowly lowered his wand obediently. Ron faltered and lowered his wand as well. The tension in the courtyard was sizzling and Hermione sagged her shoulders in relief that they at least lowered their wands.

"Let's go," she advised and Draco gave a small nod, he grasped her hand to guide her past Harry, Ron, and Ginny and back into the school. She followed quickly, dying to put as much distance between herself and Ron as possible.

"Wait, Hermione," Ron said in a pleading voice. Hermione froze and looked towards him. Her left hand was gripping Draco's hand but her right still had a firm grasp on her own wand. She was half tempted to curse him into oblivion.

"Please, Hermione," Ron continued, "Don't go with him. If you... If you leave now with him.. well then, you've lost me forever."

Hermione saw Ginny roll her eyes at Ron's words out of the corner of her eye and it gave her the strength to say what she had to say.

"Ron, you've already lost me forever," and she swept around to march off, pulling Draco towards the castle.

...

 **I've been dying to get this scene out for the past couple days, glad I had time to get to it today. As usual, the feedback has been great! Thanks everyone!**

 **Leave a review! xo**


	13. Chapter 13 - Come Undone

**The following chapter contains firmly 'M' rated content. If you are underage or if sexual content makes you uncomfortable, please stop reading now.**

...

Draco gripped her hand tighter and soon they were bursting into the castle and tearing off down the corridor away from the Great Hall. Away from the ball. Away from everyone.

They both still had their wands out as if they might face opposition as they rushed through the castle hand in hand.

Hermione was still shaking from the adrenaline rush after the confrontation with Ron. She hadn't expected this evening to turn out this way. She certainly hadn't expected Ron to turn against her so severely. At least she had the small consolation that Harry and Ginny both seemed to acknowledge that Ron was so markedly out of line.

None of that really mattered now. She looked towards Draco and cracked a huge smile, she suddenly felt free from the burden of Ron. She really didn't owe him her loyalty or consideration after tonight.

Draco returned her smile and gripped her hand tighter, they took a sharp turn towards the dungeons and Hermione had an idea where he was leading her to. Her heels and his dress shoes sparked a cacophony of echoes as they moved through the dungeons towards their destination.

Finally they arrived at the empty store room across from the potions classroom and they slipped inside. Draco shut the door behind them and cast a quick lumos spell, setting his wand on a shelf to act as a dim lamp. They both stood still for a moment, catching their breath.

Hermione broke the silence with a stream of uncontrollable giggles.

"God, the look on his face, I honestly can't believe how incredulous he was that I would go with you after the display he put on tonight!" She managed to speak in between a fit of laughter.

"It's really not funny, Granger," he said but she could see he was smiling rather broadly as well. She knew he was right, really in the morning she would likely be in tears over such a bad falling out but right now she was high on adrenaline and the thrill of standing up for herself.

She felt brazen and bold in that moment and she closed the small space between them and planted a kiss firmly on his lips. The kiss that should have happened back in the courtyard had they not been interrupted.

He was slightly hunched over from catching his breath which put his mouth perfectly level with hers. He quickly returned the kiss as if it were the most natural thing in the world, his arms going to her waist to pull her into his body securely.

She savored the languid feeling of being pressed against him firmly and she sighed, her parted lips allowing his tongue entrance into her mouth. He worked his tongue expertly around hers and slid it over her teeth in one quick motion that left her with chills shooting down her spine.

She grasped the front of his dress robes desperately trying to keep her balance as a whole new set of sensations flooded her body. She had never felt this alive and alert during a kiss. Her whole body was on fire.

His fingers toyed with the fabric of her dress on her lower back and she found herself longing for him to just dive headfirst into her dress.

Their mouths parted as he trailed kisses down to her neck, backing her up to a shelf as he worked until she felt the low shelf digging into her bum. He sucked and nipped at the sensitive skin on her neck and she tilted her head back and gave him an appreciative moan in response.

Her moan lit a fire in him and he broke apart from her, pulling back to look into her eyes as if to ask her if she really wanted this. If she really wanted to be here with him now, in this stores closet on the night of the Victory Ball with Draco Malfoy.

"I'm happy I'm here with you," she whispered as the stared into each other's faces as if she were reading his thoughts.

"I'm happy I'm here with you," he repeated her sentiment and closed the space between them again, firmly kissing her.

He ran his hands up her waist and over the silky feeling fabric of her dress, savoring the soft texture against his fingertips. Soon his thumbs brushed the undersides of her breasts and she responded with a satisfying moan into his mouth.

Noticing that she hadn't bothered wearing a bra of any kind due to the revealing nature of the back of her dress, he stifled a moan of his own and pressed his erection into her stomach. He slid his left hand over her right breast and instantly felt her nipple harden under his touch. The barely there layer of fabric didn't dilute the sensation of his fingers slipping over her nipple whatsoever and she arched her back into him, aching for more of the sensation.

She hastily began to unfasten his dress robes, pushing them off his shoulders as he deepened their kiss again. He helped her with his next layer of tie and shirt, discarding them as soon as they were undone. Soon he stood in front of her as bare-chested as the day she first saw him in this state in the room of requirement. She dragged her fingers down his chest and soon followed the blazing trail with her mouth.

He let out a strangled groan and it took most of his considerable will power to not just free himself of his pants and take her right that second.

When she was done her oral exploration of his chest she straightened up and he wrapped his hands up behind her neck, undoing the fastening of the halter top on her dress slowly. He maintained eye contact with her as he did this and his smoldering look nearly burnt a hole into her.

He let the top of the dress fall away and gather around her waist. The heavy emerald he gave her still sat heavily against her chest. He slipped a hand down the chain, over the emerald, and over her skin until he could firmly grasp her breast, pinching her nipple between his thumb and forefinger. Her lips parted and her eyes fluttered close, she went to putty in his hands.

His other hand slid down to the fabric gathered at her waist and he eased it over her hips finally allowing it to pool on the floor at her feet.

He gulped audibly when he realized she wasn't wearing undergarments of any kind underneath the dress, likely to avoid panty lines. She didn't seem self conscious or bothered by this fact as her eyes were still closed and she was still arched into him.

She was every inch as perfect as he had imagined.

He captured her lips in a kiss, this time taking it slow and deep. Letting the passion build and intensify between them.

He reached down and grasped her thigh, she assisted in hiking it up at his waist and wrapping her leg around him so he could nestle in between her legs to deepen their contact. He was still fully clothed from the waist down, a fact that he was growing to greatly resent.

She wrapped her arms around his neck, clutching at him desperately. He broke the kiss and turned his head sideways to kiss the inside of her left arm, pausing over her scar. She looked at him curiously.

She grabbed his left arm with her right and soothingly ran her hand over his faded dark mark.

"These scars aren't who we are, Draco," she whispered. "The position we are in now is evidence enough of that."

"I know," he agreed. "I just... you deserve more than a deatheater in a broom closet." His face became a flushed red.

"I want you. Hear and now." She peppered kisses across his jaw line. "You have to trust me in that. I know what I want."

"I do," he conceded. "And I want you."

"Good, then we are in agreement," she smirked and rolled her hips against his enticingly. His eyes darkened and he captured her lips again.

He slid a hand between them and she gasped into his mouth as his fingers found her most sensitive nub. He swirled around it in small lazy circles until she bucked her hips at him impatiently. He smiled into their kisses and pulled his hips back from her a small fraction to all him to insert his pointer finger into her wet hole.

She would have cried out had their mouths not been attached. He kissed his way down to her neck so he could save every delicious sound, pant, and moan that was emitted from her small perfect mouth as he worked on her womanhood.

He eased his middle finger in a long with her pointer finger and he was almost surprised by how soaking wet she already was. He began with a slow rhythm and built speed, encouraged by her soft moans.

Soon he let his thumb join in and it worked over her clit as his other two fingers pumped in and out of her increasing in speed and force.

He curved his fingers to hit against that spongey tissue that he knew would send her over the edge. He made sure his thumb continued to circle her clit and he could feel her core tightening. He didn't know how long he would last once he was actually inside of her and he wanted to make sure she got her pleasure before he took his own.

She grasped at him fiercely, her finger nails digging painfully into the pale bare skin of his shoulders and he relished in the small pain. He pulled back slightly to look into her face, he wanted to watch her come apart at his touch.

"Oh God, Draco I'm going to..." she panted and he sped up the pace of his fingers ever so slightly. She felt the warm wave building up inside of her.

"Come undone for me," he encouraged and the wave crashed. At his words he felt a torrent of spasms around his fingers. Her juices flowed freely out of her and down his knuckles as her hips bucked with the pleasure of her orgasm.

He grasped her around the waist with his free hand to prevent her from collapsing as she came. Soon she was a shuddering mess against his chest, clutching at him.

He kissed the top of her head tenderly as he let her recover from the earth shaking orgasm. It was so unlike anything she was ever able to give herself and she felt thoroughly... awakened.

She looked up at him and sought out his lips again. She reached down and unbuckled his pants quickly, desperate to deepen their connection even further.

Soon he was kicking out of his shoes and pants clumsily. He was shoving his boxers down and his erection bounced free of its confines at last. She looked at it curiously and grasped it firmly in her hand.

He gasped and pressed his forehead into hers.

"Fuck Hermione... you have no idea..." he hissed at her tentative touches along his sizable shaft.

"Sorry..." she began to pull away but he grasped her wrist and encouraged her more.

"No, don't you dare stop," he smirked and she smiled back. She ran her hand up and down his length, getting familiar with him.

He grasped her bum and hefted her up onto the low shelf so she was sitting as comfortably as possible. She spread her legs invitingly and he growled a hungry and guttural growl as he stepped in between them.

"You're perfect," he admired as he grasped his cock and guided it into her soaked opening.

She arched into him and shuddered with pleasure as he filled her to the brim. He stayed there, fully sheathed within her, for a moment. He closed his eyes, trying to remember every detail.

She gripped at his back and pushed her hips forward into his. He grunted and began to thrust in and out of her in a steady rhythm. She rocked her hips along with his rhythm and he leaned down to capture a nipple in his mouth. She gasped and lulled her head back against the wall, dizzy with the overstimulation of every inch of her body.

He kissed his way up her chest and neck to find her mouth again.

"Hermione," he murmured against her lips tenderly. "Oh fuck... Hermione..."

"Draco," she whispered in wholehearted agreement with that sentiment.

He angled his hips in an attempt to deepen his thrusts and with every pump of his hips he was bottoming out within her. She gasped with the mild pain and the extreme pleasure of it all.

She wrapped her legs around him, locking her ankles behind him to allow him as much access as humanly possible. He reached down, grasping her hips to hold her in place as his thrusts became quicker and more desperate.

His rhythm soon became erratic and his face was screwed up in ecstasy.

"Oh god... Hermione," he moaned.

"Come undone for me," she encouraged, echoing his sentiment from a moment ago when he made her cum.

That did the trick and he buried himself within her, his cock twitching and spilling his hot seed deep within her womb.

He shuddered with the final shocks of his orgasm and soon they were both panting heavily in each other's arms.

He held her tightly, never wanting to let go.

"You're so fucking perfect," he whispered into the top of her head and she rested against his chest. She felt his cock soften and slip out of her, along with some of his cum and she felt like she was losing a part of herself.

He grabbed his wand and whispered a quick cleansing spell along with a contraception spell and she smiled at him appreciatively.

She remained sitting atop the shelf and he backed up to asses the situation. She looked positively sinful sitting there, legs spread wide, wearing nothing but the emerald necklace he gave her and her silver stiletto heels. The site alone was enough to almost cause his cock to stir for round two.

He grabbed for his boxer briefs and pants in order to avoid embarrassing himself. He quickly pulled up his pants and began to do his belt up and she finally slid off the shelf and shook out her dress to prepare to step back into it.

"Never wear that dress again, Granger," he admonished.

"Oh?" she questioned, looking slightly crestfallen. "I thought you liked it?"

"Yes, thats the point isn't it? I can't control myself around you in that dress."

She smirked as she re-fasted the halter top around her neck.

"In that case, I'll be sure to wear it at the next formal event we attend together." She cast him an evil smirk.

He tried not to read too much into the phrase 'attend together' and returned her smirk.

Soon they were both fully dressed again and standing in front of each other as if they hadn't just fucked each other's brains out.

"I hope you won't find yourself regretting this in the morning," he said, voicing his own insecurity and cursing himself for once again being so vulnerable around her.

"No, of course not," she wrapped her arms tenderly around his waist and hugged him firmly.

He savored the comforting feeling, wondering when the next time would come that they would share such an intimate moment. Was this a one time thing? Or did she want something... more... from him? He knew better than to ask in that second and he settled for the hug.

They disentangled and he opened the door for her. They slipped out into the hallway, the cold dungeon air felt like a freezing bucket of water being doused over them.

"Allow me to walk you back to the Gryffindor tower?" he said, extending his arm to her in a gentlemanly fashion.

"Of course," she smiled demurely and slipped her arm into hers. For the first time she felt hopeful that they were going to part ways without a fight.

They were back at the tower before they knew it, and they both looked towards each other hesitantly, neither one wanting to call it a night on their adventures of the evening.

"Thank you, Draco," she said softly, looking up at him. "You were a perfect gentleman tonight. I didn't even have to hex you to stop you from cursing Ron's face off."

"Well, it's not as if the Weasel wouldn't have deserved it. God, he really is sick in the head, isn't he?" Draco said with a shake of his head.

"I can't even justify his behavior tonight, so I won't try. Just... thank you... for being there for me," she responded.

"Of course I'm there for you. It's the least I can do," he said fiercely.

"No," she shook her head. "I don't want you to be there for me out of some sense of obligation. I want you to because you want to."

"I do," he confirmed with a curt nod.

"Good." She smiled warmly and tilted her chin up at him, clearly angling for a goodnight kiss.

He returned her smile and gave her a brief yet passionate kiss on the lips. Their mouths parted and Hermione quickly scurried off towards the portrait hole, he began his long trek back towards the dungeons.

Somehow he managed to allow his doubts and insecurities pervade his mind as he walked. Despite everything going perfectly this evening, a strange sense of foreboding gripped his heart.

Back in the Gryffindor tower, Hermione collapsed on her bed up in the dorm she shared with the seventh year girls. She was the first one back as the ball was still surely going on. She didn't blame Ginny in the slightest for not letting her altercation with Ron cut her evening short.

She tried to only focus on the good things that had happened that evening as she drifted off to sleep, but it couldn't stop her from allowing a small tendril of dread seep into her mind at the thought of the fallout from the words exchanged between her and Ron.

It would surely be an interesting holiday season.

...

 **Hope I haven't offended anyone's delicate sensibilities!**

 **Leave a review! xo**


	14. Chapter 14 - Summoning

Hermione was practically buzzing with the leftover adrenaline from the previous night as she and Ginny made their way down to the great hall for breakfast the next morning. Ginny was still grilling her with questions after Hermione had admitted to her tryst with Draco Malfoy.

Earlier this morning she had briefly pondered if she should own up to her supply closet romp with Draco Malfoy and tell Ginny everything. She immediately came to the conclusion that Ginny had to know and the entire truth came bubbling out almost immediately after Hermione was awoken by a stream of sunlight into their dormitory.

"...is it true what Daphne Greengrass used to brag about in the Prefect's bathroom?" Ginny questioned with an evil smirk.

"Is what true?" Hermione asked hesitantly as she distractedly tried to ready her mind to see Draco again that morning.

"You know, that he has a twelve inch-"

"Ginny!" Hermione scolded her red headed friend and her own face promptly turned a matching shade of rouge.

"What?! I was going to say wand!" Ginny retorted, her smirk growing. Hermione glowered back at her.

"Right, I'll take that as a yes," Ginny nodded and Hermione swatted her arm with the book she was clutching. She wasn't sure why she was even bringing reading material to breakfast, surely her mind wouldn't be able to focus on anything but the pale blonde wizard for the foreseeable future. Maybe she just needed it as a security blanket.

They soon found themselves at breakfast, settling in to the Gryffindor table. Ginny promptly dug in to some breakfast potatoes but Hermione idly buttered some toast, doing her darnedest not to look up and let her gaze drift over to the Slytherin table.

She failed miserably.

She slowly let her eyes sweep across the massive hall, trying not to let them linger too long on Draco. Trying and again, failing.

He looked slightly less pale than normal, he had a healthy glow about him. He looked... virile. She let the smallest hint of a smile tug at the corner of her lips and he returned a smirk. He was staring at her unabashedly, he really had nothing to lose since he was already painfully and unequivocally cast out in Slytherin society.

Her brain had trouble processing that after all these years, after everything that had transpired between them, they had wild unabashed sex in a supply closet. Hell, she had punched him square in the face in third year and here they were five years later with enough sexual tension to drown a Hippogriff.

She was broken out of her thoughts by the morning post. A large brown barn owl deposited a crisp white letter in front of Draco which he inspected hesitantly. He rarely received any letters now aside from those his mother sent, but this was not the Malfoy stationary.

Hermione watched as he opened the letter and elegantly slide it out of the envelope to inspect. His face drained of color and she saw his shoulders go rigid.

Her observation was cut off by an owl sweeping across her view and laying a copy of the Daily Prophet across her breakfast. She quickly deposited payment in the pouch on it's leg and shooed it off to return to trying to figure out what was going on with Draco when something caught her eye.

From the rolled up newspaper she recognized a bright white shock of hair. With shaking fingers, she unravelled the paper and gasped at the headline.

 _DRACO MALFOY CALLED IN FOR QUESTIONING. NEW LEAF AN ACT?_

 _Sources at the ministry have informed the Prophet that Draco Malfoy is being called in for questioning regarding war crimes that he may have committed over the past year. As we all know, many of the death eater trials have already been wrapped up this past summer so the timing of this summons raises many eyebrows in the magical community. Has new evidence surfaced that will allow the ministry to point the finger at the young Malfoy heir?_

 _Malfoy, 18, who has recently been spotted cavorting with the war hero Hermione Granger, has appeared to the public as reformed and regretful of any involvement he had with You-Know-Who..._

The article then went on to re-hash the rubbish that it spewed during the summer after his mother's trial.

Hermione couldn't hear anything save for the pounding of her pulse in her ears as she gripped the newspaper, staring at the picture of Draco. Ginny shook her shoulder to get her attention.

"Holy Shite," Ginny whispered, "did you know about this?"

"That the ministry was investigating him? No!" Hermione was still shaking and she looked up in time to see Draco's back as he fled the Great Hall. "Ron must have something to do with this."

"How could he have though? It was only last night that Ron found out about... Draco... with Pansy," Ginny said in a low voice, not wanting to call it what it was.

"Well maybe he moved quickly... I mean he was already suspected of it, wasn't he? Plus, they aren't charging Draco with anything, they are just calling him in for questioning."

"Right," said Ginny as she read the article over Hermione's shoulder. "But I mean... it's true, though. What he did to Pansy?"

"Yes and no," Hermione said and Ginny looked at her expectantly with a neutral expression, not judging her in the slightest and Hermione could kiss her for it. "He... was forced to. By Voldemort."

An understanding look came over Ginny's face. "If anyone knows about what its like to be tricked by Voldemort and forced to do something you're ashamed of... it's me."

Hermione put a reassuring hand on Ginny's arm and squeezed, she remembered the second year when Ginny was tricked and possessed by Voldemort. As much as she hated that Ginny had to go through that, she was eternally grateful at how understanding she was to Draco's situation.

"Here," Hermione handed the paper to her and stood up. "I need some air."

"Yeah, of course," Ginny responded distractedly, her eyes combing through the article.

Hermione speed walked out of there before any other students had the chance to read their copies of the Daily Prophet and start murmuring about her and Draco. She always hated it when they murmured.

She wanted to find Draco but she didn't have a clue where he would have gotten to. Before she even had time to think she heard the scraping of chairs from the nearby abandoned classroom that he had once upon a time dragged her into. God, that felt like forever ago.

She quickly slipped in and magically locked the door behind herself.

She found him seated in the center of the room. The remaining desks and chairs seemed to have been pushed out from him as if he were the epicenter of an explosion. She could feel the magic rolling off of him in waves and it was palpable in the air. He was faced away from her at the door but she knew that he was aware of her presence.

His shoulders were wound so tight it looked like he was braced for a fall. She hesitantly approached him, hand outstretched. She rested her hand on his shoulder and he clenched his muscles even tighter.

"Please," he said in a hoarse voice, "don't touch me."

Hermione pulled her hand away as if his shoulder had burned her. How could he say that after last night?

"You're fucking boyfriend is awfully protective of you," he said stonily. "Looks like he is launching a ministry attack based on a personal vendetta against me. Now that he knows I'm guilty, it shouldn't be a problem for the Auror Office to convict me. You should probably rethink your choice of friend Granger. Surely your association with me is going to sully your pristine reputation."

"Don't push me away now, after everything," she admonished him.

Slowly, he turned in the chair to face her and she moved around to stand in front of him.

"It's not for me, it's for you. I hurt the people I touch." His voice was deadly even and matter-of-fact.

"Save the bullshit for someone else," she said sternly, "you aren't pulling that with me."

He glared at her sharply and stood up, towering over her menacingly. "Why do you give a shit anyway, Granger?"

"Oh it's Granger now? It seemed like it was Hermione last night," she responded rebelliously and jutted her chin up at him.

He looked murderous. "Don't you dare throw that in my face. Not today."

"I'm not throwing anything in your face! Unless you think it was a mistake?" she kicked herself for sound so self conscious when she uttered the last part.

"Maybe I do," he said and it felt like her stomach dropped ten stories. "I just taint you."

"You think you know what's best for me?" she was yelling now and she poked him roughly in the chest. "You don't get to tell me what fucking taints me after repeating to me all those years that drivel about tainted blood. I think you've more than proven you have no idea what makes a person good, what makes a person worth a damn."

She was practically pounding her fist on his chest, but she didn't care. "I'm telling you, you're a good person and if you don't believe me then TOO BAD. You aren't getting rid of me with your self-loathing bullshit." She finished with a huff and crossed her arms in front of her chest furiously.

He stared down at her as if contemplating a retort but then his shoulders sagged and he seemed to deflate. She knew she had won, she was getting a lot quicker at beating him into submission during their arguments, she gave herself a mental pat on the back.

She stepped forward and slipped her arms around his waist, pulling her body toward his. He didn't respond for a moment and then she felt his arms around her, one hand on her lower back and one on the back of her head and tangled in her hair as she rested her face against his chest.

He was breathing heavily and she could tell he was caving in from all sides. His dirty laundry was to be aired, yet again, in the court of public opinion. There was only so much that one person could take.

Within the span of twenty four hours he had been taken from one of his highest highs to one of his lowest lows.

They stood there embracing for what felt like a few minutes but was probably much longer before she said aloud, "You have to talk to Pansy."

His entire body went stiff and he dropped his arms from her.

"I can't."

"Well, it isn't really an option at this point. She will obviously catch wind of what is going on, the charges that will surely be laid against you. You have to make amends with her."

"You're kidding," he said dryly. "Make amends? I'm pretty sure you can't just make amends after raping someone."

Hermione flinched at the word. "You didn't rape her. Voldemort did."

"Oh really?," he said cold and stepped back from her. "So it was Voldemort who ripped off her panties?" He leered threateningly at Hermione and she felt her body go cold at the foreign expression on his face. Except it wasn't foreign, this was a look she had seen on old Draco many times in the past.

"It was Voldemort who whispered a charm to make his cock hard so he could violate Pansy as she screamed and cried on the fucking ground?" Draco stepped towards Hermione and tears sprang into her eyes at this callous recounting of what had happened.

Seeing he was having an effect on Hermione, he pressed on.

"I suppose it was also Voldemort who shoved into her dry cunt while she clawed at his arms and spit in his face?"

Before either of them knew what was happening, Hermione's hand whipped up and slapped him across the face hard. A red hand shape bloomed on his cheek and he looked at her darkly.

"Do you really think that was you?" she hissed, breathing heavily.

"It sure fucking felt like me," he spat back. He grabbed her upper arm and pressed his body flush against hers. "It feels as real as this does right now."

She ripped her arm out of his grasp and he let go.  
"Pansy's hatred for me is just as real as anything you've ever felt for me. I saw it in her eyes when it was happening. She was broken," he rasped out the last sentence.

"You both need closure," Hermione said.

"Maybe she does, but I don't deserve any," he was looking anywhere but at her face, not able to bear the judgement she was surely passing on him.

"Well at least give it to there then, you need to talk to her. Set things right. You have to try," Hermione whispered.

His hands were now balled in tight fists at his side and he was at war with himself in his mind, thoughts flashing through his eyes as if they were written across his face.

Hermione patiently observed him, observed his hands at his sides which brought her to unbelievable bliss only just last night.

"Okay," he responded hoarsely. "Fine. I'll go see Pansy in France over the holidays."

"I'll go with you," she volunteered reassuringly.

"Absolutely not," he said sternly, "that is the last thing anyone needs. You two hate each other. You'll only make it worse."

"Okay... I will at least accompany you to the ministry when they question you. When is that?" she responded.

"Saturday after next," he said and ghosted his hand over the pocket in his robes that he had stowed the summons in.

"Okay, its settled," she nodded perfunctorily, as if confirming with herself. "I hope you got this tantrum out of your system, you will need to keep a level head in the ministry. Especially if Ron is anywhere to be seen."

Draco raised his hackles, "it isn't me that has a problem keeping my temper, it's that disgusting hot head."

"Yes, well... you can't let him get to you." She reached out and placed a reassuring hand on his chest. She could feel the pounding of his heart through his robes. He reached up and laid his larger hand across hers and they finally made eye contact. She felt a spark of recognition as if she saw the same hunger in his eyes that he had displayed last night, but she didn't think it was the appropriate time to re-live their tryst.

Maybe it was conflict and strife that brought them together, and now conflict and strife are some kind of trigger for their arousal. She deflated at the depressing thought and withdrew her hand.

"We shouldn't sit here all day, do you want to go catch up on work in the library? We can hopefully avoid prying eyes there as well," she suggested.

"Yeah... sure," he nodded and followed her out of the room dejectedly.

...

The next week went by painfully slow as both of them dreaded Draco's appointment for questioning at the Ministry.

They hadn't so much as held hands or even shared the most chaste kiss since the night of the ball. It was almost as if neither of them wanted to jinx the spark between them by acknowledging that it existed. It was as if they thought igniting that spark would only due to scare it off.

Friday found them in potions lessons, yet again re-living potions from their sixth year as Professor Slughorn was put on a strict Voldemort-approved curriculum last year and the current seventh years missed out on important NEWT level potions.

Slughorn rambled on about the properties of the powerful love potion, Amortentia, while Ginny doodled fashion sketches next to Hermione. Hermione sat paying rapt attention, despite having already heard this lesson in her sixth year.

Draco snuck glances over at her from his position on the predominantly Slytherin side of the classroom. Her hair was illuminated by a candle on the wall behind her and she looked like a literal angel, he tried not to read too much in to that symbolism.

Soon Slughorn advised them to pair off and start brewing the potion amongst themselves. Hermione was the first out of her seat as usual and she hurriedly gathered all the necessary supplies for her and Ginny to brew the assigned potion. He stood to make his way to the student's supplies at the corner of the room and as he passed Hermione who was heading back to her desk, he reached out and brushed his hand across her hip. He wasn't sure what possessed him to act so brazenly but he was glad he did when she looked at him with such a fiery expression it felt as if it set his skin alight. He smirked and sauntered off to gather supplies.

Distractedly, Hermione began sorting out their ingredients back at the desk she shared with Ginny.

Soon the classroom was brewing in full swing and intoxicating aromas were filling the air, the trademark of Amortentia.

Hermione's nose was filled with the scent of books, freshly cut grass, and something she hadn't smelled the last time she had been exposed to Amortentia, something primal. She blushed when she realized it was so eerily familiar because she had just caught a whiff as she had returned to her desk from gathering ingredients. Draco.

Suddenly a flushed and warm feeling came over her body, and a wetness grew between her legs. Images from the previous weekend flashed in her head. Draco pumping into her rhythmically and waves of pleasure rocketing through her body.

She refused to look over at him. She kept her mind focused on the task at hand.

She was in the middle of stirring the potion counterclockwise twenty times when Ginny commented on her technique. "Shite, Hermione, what did that stirrer ever do to you? You look as if you are about to break it in half with that grip of steel."

Hermione blushed again and loosened her grip, "Sorry, just distracted."

"Right..." replied Ginny suspiciously. Hermione noticed that Ginny seemed in a sour mood. Maybe it was Harry that she was smelling and Hermione knew that she was missing Harry fiercely. She felt a pang of pity for her fiery friend.

As soon as they had finished their potion, Slughorn was at their side.

"Superb as usual Miss Granger and Miss Weasely, I would expect nothing less! You two are dismissed from the lesson," he said with his normal bravado, letting everyone else in the class know that they would have to live up to Hermione and Ginny in order to impress Slughorn.

"Thank you, sir," they murmured in unison and packed up their supplies.

As they exited, Hermione chanced a glance at Malfoy and she wished she hadn't. He was stirring his potion with a wild, manic glint in his eyes. She looked away and hurried out of the classroom.

"Do you want to come watch my Quidditch practice tonight?" Ginny asked. She knew Hermione hated Quidditch but she didn't want to just jet off to practice and leave her friend alone.

"No, thank you. I think I'm going to head to the library and get a jump start on the weekend's homework," Hermione responded and already began reaching into her bag to organize the day's notes.

"Of course, have fun, bookworm!" Ginny teased and flounced off in the direction of the dorms to get ready for practice.

Hermione turned to make her way towards the library when the classroom door crashed open behind her and Draco was stalking out, he must have just finished his potion moments after them.

"Granger," he said roughly as he approached her, "a word?"

Her mouth went dry and she nodded mutely. He gently gripped her upper arm and guided her towards the supply closet they had shared that fateful night in before anyone could see them slip inside.

Without warning he boosted her up to have a seat on a low shelf and he fell to his knees in front of her. She looked down at him hesitantly.

He pushed up her uniform skirt and grasped her knees lightly. She gasped at the feeling of his rough hands on her bare skin. The gasp caused him to look up at her and she saw in his eyes only hunger.

He nudged her legs apart with his hands and they deftly slid up her thighs, she was quivering. He hooked his fingers in her panties and without thinking she tilted her hips to allow him to slide them down her legs. She wriggled one foot out of them and they dangled carelessly from the other ankle.

He was still kneeling in front of her, breathing heavily and looking as if he had just torn through a bottle of firewhiskey, though she knew he hadn't.

He nudged her legs apart wider and hiked her skirt up around her waist. She was completely exposed to him.

He leaned in close and inhaled deeply. She gasped. The sight of Draco Malfoy on his knees in front of her was too much in and of itself, but if he was going to do that, she couldn't take it.

She went to close her legs but he held them open and looked up at her and gave her a patient and reassuring look.

He leaned in again and his tongue darted out, siding up the length of her opening which was now drenched with anticipation. She whimpered.

"That's it," he hissed.

"That's what?" she panted, barely able to form the words.

"The intoxicating scent I've been forced to endure for the past hour while you steadfastly ignored me," he growled and darted his tongue out again, this time over her clit. She moaned and rocked her hips forward, eager for more of the unbearable pleasure.

"Please..." she whispered.

"Please what?" he said in an authoritative tone that only served to increase her arousal.

"Don't make me say it," she whimpered and rocked her hips forward yet again.

"Say it," he commanded.

"Please... lick me," she said meekly.

"Lick you where?" he asked in a faux innocent voice and licked the inside of her thigh enticingly.

"Lick my pussy," she bit out and with a hungry grin, he obliged.

He grasped her thighs roughly and spread them even further as he dove into her, letting his tongue ravish her womanhood. He eagerly lapped up her free flowing juices and she squirmed at every ministration.

She threaded her fingers into his hair as she twisted her pelvis against his face in pleasure. Her entire body was flushed and on fire as he began to focus his energy on her clit, starting in small and slow circles and steadily increasing his pace.

He reached up and inserted one finger into her opening, never breaking the contact of his tongue on her clit and she mewled appreciatively in response. He began pumping his finger in and out in rhythm with his tongue and he could tell that she was wound tight and close to the edge.

She moved her hands to grip the shelf on either side of her to steady herself, it felt as if her entire world was spinning.

"Draco..." she moaned his name and his cock twitched against his already strained pants. "You're amazing," she groaned and her voice caught as he increased the speed of his tounge yet again, which she wasn't even sure was humanly possible at this point.

Her toes curled and the entire lower half of her body tensed up into a knot of muscle as if she was a loaded spring. Then she burst over the edge in a heap of shudders and appreciative moans of Draco's name.

He moaned into her and he felt her walls contracting around his finger as he licked up any byproducts of her orgasm.

She was a quivering mess, her eyes were screwed tightly shut and she was breathing heavily. He rose to his feet in front of her.

Hesitantly, she opened her eyes to look at him and he was wearing a rather predatory grin. He loosened his tie and stepped forward, pressing his rock hard erection against her still sensitive flesh, his pants were the only barrier between them.

"Was that good, my kitten?" he purred in her ear and she found herself suddenly mute, she nodded and gulped.

"Fuck, I've been imagining that all week, but after today I couldn't hold back anymore," he brushed some curly locks off her sweaty forehead and lowered his head down to suckle and nip at her neck. His left hand came up to expertly undo the buttons on her oxford shirt.

"Every morning at breakfast I see you there sitting all prim and proper and I can't help but wish it was you laid out in front of me on the table, ready to be feasted upon," he whispered against her skin as his hand slipped into her unbuttoned shirt and grasped her breast, squeezing lightly. She moaned, finding that she was somehow, beyond reason, becoming aroused again.

"When we sit in the library studying, I just stare at the same lines over and over again. I can't even think when I'm around you," he trailed sloppy kisses down her neck and over her collarbone. "I've been so afraid, to jinx what we have by trying to kiss you. You're fucking lips are so kissable." He came up to eye level with her and she just stared back, eyes wide. He kissed her on the mouth fiercely and reached down between them to undo his belt. He quickly freed his cock from his trousers and slipped into her pussy.

She gasped into their kiss, grabbing his shoulders for support and wrapping her legs tightly around his waist.

"Hermione," he said with a shuddery breath, resting his forehead against hers and looking into her eyes.

Their first time had been about coming together and realizing that they had each other's backs. It was the culmination of a slow building need that had grown between them throughout the start of the year. This time was different, it was fiery and feral and quick-burning.

He pumped into her ruthlessly, she was completely soaked from his earlier ministrations so there was no resistance from her end. She eagerly met his thrusts with her hips.

Her mind was blank from any other thoughts that didn't involve the man in front of her. She wanted to feel every inch of his body, her hands feverishly ran over his chest and back.

He reached behind her, grasping her ass and lifting her off the shelf with each deep thrust.

"I'm close," he grunted out and she didn't have the mind to do anything except moan in response. He buried himself deeply into her and with a shudder he unloaded his seed deep into her womb.

She grasped him tightly as he orgasmed deep inside her. They both sat still for a moment, still joined, panting.

"Let's never go so long without doing that again, agreed?" he breathed out.

She laughed and shook her had. "Wholeheartedly agreed."

...

 **Thanks for all the love everyone! Sorry there was so much time in between this update and the last, I was out of the country for a little while and then in the hospital, but now everything is fine and hopefully I can get back to providing regular updates.**

 **Leave a review! xo**


	15. Chapter 15 - Reckoning

A few days later found Hermione anxiously wringing the hem of her sweater and sitting in the waiting room in the auror office at the ministry. She shuffled her sneakers on the sleek black tiles of the floor and let her eyes scan over the reception area that she had already memorized fifteen minutes ago.

As she had promised, she accompanied Draco to the auror office for his questioning. She wasn't allowed in with him, despite much protestation on her part, but she was determined to wait patiently for him to be released. She supposed the benefits that she had been receiving due to her war hero status stopped at being allowed in on criminal questioning.

Thankfully the hadn't run into Ron on their way in that morning, and he didn't seem to be lurking around the auror office. Ron's superiors likely wisely judged that with the history between him and Draco, neither of them would be able to keep their cool.

She stood up abruptly, unable to remain idle any longer and strided over to the young witch at the reception desk.

"Excuse me, do you know how much longer Draco Malfoy will be in there for?" Hermione questioned sweetly.

"Oh, these things usually take a few hours so I would say you have least another hour," she advised.

"Thank you, I'm going to take a walk, will you let him know I will be back soon if he comes out?"

"Sure thing, miss," the receptionist smiled sweetly and Hermione smiled back in thanks and turned to leave.

She had been to the ministry plenty of times, especially in the time after the war as she had helped in the effort to test many of the employees for dark magic and help get rid of corruption. She was familiar enough with the massive building to be able to navigate it's layout with confidence. She thought she would try and find Neville to say hello, he was completing training down in a research office to work on remedies for ailments caused by magical plants.

She got in an elevator to head down to the research level and shortly after she boarded, it made a stop on the main floor. Ron stepped in and her heart stopped.

He stared at her, unsure of what to say. He looked strained and angry, as if he had just lost a quidditch match. This thought made her pine for simpler days.

"Hermione," he acknowledged. "I'm just going down to visit my father. I've been ordered to stay clear of the auror office today."

"I figured as much," she replied brusquely. She kept her gaze focused on the elevator doors, refusing to acknowledge him.

The silence enveloped them so thoroughly and Hermione focused her brain power on urging the elevator to move faster.

"Are you with him now?" Ron croaked out. Hermione almost laughed cruelly at how pathetic he sounded.

"Ronald, my business is my own and I would appreciate if you would stay out of it," she said sharply.

"Fuck, Hermione. I'll take that as a yes. How can you? After everything that has happened?" Ron was facing her now, looking enraged but restrained.

Hermione steadfastly ignored him and he advanced on her across the small space.

"Answer me, goddammit! You owe me at least that," he said angrily.

"I owe you exactly nothing," she hissed and her stop on the elevator came up. As soon as the doors opened she darted out before Ron could stop her.

When the doors slid shut behind her she was eternally grateful that he didn't try to follow her. As far as she was concerned, their friendship was completely over, she didn't owe him a thing.

She leaned against the wall of the corridor briefly to regain her composure. The cool stone of the wall soothed her and she hadn't even realized that she had broken out into a mild sweat. The stress of confrontation was taking its tole on her this year.

She scampered off to the research department to drop in on Neville.

...

Hermione had a lovely lunch with Neville, catching up and reminiscing. He had even told her that he planned on moving in with Luna soon and Hermione was overjoyed at the news. Those two would be splendid together.

Soon though she found herself back in the auror office waiting patiently for Draco.

She twiddled her thumbs and began her recount of the floor tiles when the door to the office burst open and Draco swept out. He gestured to her and she followed him wordlessly out into the corridor, waving goodbye to the polite receptionist.

Draco was walking towards the elevators so swiftly she had some difficulty keeping up.

"Draco, wait," she panted, scurrying along behind him. He slowed, but didn't stop. "What happened, how was it?"

"Sorry to have made you wait so long," he said in a cold voice.

"Don't worry about it," she said and she reached out to take his hand in hers as they continued towards the elevators. He didn't shake it off, but he didn't exactly grasp her hand back. "Tell me what happened."

"What happened was they threw the book at me," he huffed. His shoulders sagged and he sighed deeply as he pounded the button to summon the elevator roughly. "Maybe that is a good thing, it means they don't really have any evidence on me so they were trying to get me to incriminate myself. I think I should be in the clear."

Hermione sighed in relief and squeezed his hand, he finally responded with a light squeeze back.

"Well, thats good," she beamed at him.

"Yes," he agreed stoically and they boarded the empty elevator that appeared before them. "God, I want to pummel Weasel though, its clear that he is the one feeding them all this supposed information."

"Yes, well, hopefully we will never have to see him again," Hermione said and leaned into Draco's side. He looked down at her, shocked.

"Just like that, you are cutting ties with him? Not that I'm complaining," he added quickly, "I'm just... surprised. I thought the bonds between you two ran deep."

"Yes, well. It seems impossible to come back after the things he said to me," she said quietly. "That is not something that friends would even consider saying to each other. And let us not forget the fact that he never even tried to apologize!"

"Not that I'm defending him, because I'm not and I'm delighted that you are cutting him off, but he hasn't really had the opportunity to," Draco responded, unsure if he should be comforting Hermione or doing a victory dance.

"Well... he has. Had an opportunity, i mean. I ran into him while you were in questioning," she admitted. He raised his eyebrows.

"And?"

"And he just tried to get me to admit to being with you! I didn't tell him anything, but I'm sure he has interpreted through my silence that we are together."

"Are we?" he questioned. She felt the bottom of her stomach drop out.

"Are we what?" she hissed quietly as the elevator doors slid open and deposited them on the main floor of the ministry, they quickly strode towards the fireplaces connected to the floor network. He dropped her hand from his as they walked.

"Together?" he questioned in an impassive tone.

"Oh... well, I mean we are more together than not. I just thought... well.. we've done..." she was stumbling over her words and her face was flaming. She suddenly wished she was anywhere but in the middle of a crowded public place.

"Listen, I told my mother I would stay over at Malfoy manor tonight. I've already cleared with with McGonnogal, since its a weekend she approved. Come with me," the last sentence seemed so much like a command that it made Hermione uncomfortable. She was grateful he was changing the subject and also somehow hurt that he was so unwilling to define what they had together.

"Oh... no, I should get back to the castle I promised Ginny we could study together tonight. Besides, I can't possibly stay over and impose on your mother," she responded meekly.

"Nonsense, come to the manor with me," he began to shuffle her towards a fireplace that was designated as linked to private residences. "We can apparate into Hogsmead tomorrow and walk back up to the castle.

"I really should get back," she protested but allowed herself to be lead to the fireplace. "I haven't brought a change of clothes, it really wouldn't be appropriate..."

"Please, Hermione," he gave her a pleading look and she couldn't resist his use of her first name. "It would mean a lot to my mother, for her to see you. She really is fond of you."

"Okay," she gave in and he led her into the fireplace with a grin.

...

A few moments later they appeared in the main hall of Malfoy Manor and Hermione felt the wind knocked out of her. The experience wasn't from the floo ride but rather the rush of memories from being back in that room. The spot in which she was tortured only months ago was right in front of her.

Draco seemed to realize his mistake instantly and reached out to steady her.

"Hermione," he whispered, "I'm so sorry. I didn't think. I shouldn't have sprung this on you." He grasped her shoulders and pulled her into a hug. She clutched the front of his robes and tried to block out the surroundings. He broke the hug to lead her into the corridor.

"It's fine. I'm fine," she put on her most neutral face and soothed her sweater over her stomach in a half veiled attempt to soothe her nausea.

"No, it isn't fine. I'm an ass," he insisted.

"Well, that much is true," she smirked at him and they both heard the tap of heels on marble as his mother approached them from the other end of the corridor.

"Oh Draco!" his mother rushed towards him and threw her arms around his neck, "I've been worried sick about you all day, how did it go?"

"It went fine mother, you know they wouldn't be able to crack me," he smiled warmly at her. Hermione was surprised to see such a genuine smile from him, normally he only distributed sarcastic smiles or smarmy smirks.

"And Hermione dear, what a lovely surprise," Narcissa Malfoy greeted her warmly. "Draco, how rude, you should have told me you would be bringing company! I would have had the house elves prepare a meal."

"Oh no, its no trouble at all, Mrs. Malfoy. It's great to see you, you look well," Hermione responded.

"All thanks to you, dear!" she grasped Hermione's arm in an affectionate manner. Hermione appreciated the gesture, but being in this place made her so acutely aware of the word 'mudblood' forever scarred on her skin.

"No, that's nonsense, I couldn't possibly take all the credit," Hermione smiled.

"Mother, Hermione isn't feeling well, I thought I could let her lay down in a guest room and I can meet you back in the sitting room to discuss things?" Draco cut in on the pleasantries.

"Oh," Mrs. Malfoy looked at Hermione with concern, "yes of course!" She tried to hide her crestfallen look and summoned a house elf to set up a room for Hermione.

"I'll take her to the east wing," he advised the elf and lead Hermione off towards the grand staircase.

"It was great seeing you again Mrs. Malfoy, thank you for having me" Hermione said graciously as Draco led her away.

"Yes of course, dear. Please do feel better!"

Hermione nodded and Draco practically swept her away hurriedly.

"I'm really a tactless fool," Draco admitted as soon as they were out of hearing range from his mother. "I should have never brought you here."

"Draco, really it's fine. I'm a big girl." Hermione shook him off to walk determinedly ahead.

"If you want, I can take you back right now, my mother can wait."

"No don't be silly, I'm sure I can stand to be here for one night."

They walked the rest of the way in silence before they reached a small corridor with several ornate wooden doors. He opened a door and gestured for her to enter. The room was immaculately decorated with a massive four poster bed and luxurious blue silk bedding.

"Well, you certainly don't let your guests live in squalor," she admired. He smirked.

"No, that we don't," he remained in the door way as she entered, not wanting to follow her in.

"I need to go speak with my mother, do you want me to have the elves bring you any food?"

"No, that won't be necessary," she looked around and realized that they had already outfitted the room with a change of clothes for her to sleep in.

"Okay," he stood there uncomfortably, not wanting to leave her. "My room is right across the hall here, if you need anything in the night."

She tried to ignore the blush creeping up her neck. He noticed and couldn't suppress a smirk.

"And I do mean anything," he winked at her and she looked away, embarrassed. "My mother is in the other wing, so you don't have to worry about running into her over here."

"Message received," she clipped and she began investigating the room.

"You promise you're okay?" he asked and his concerned look was back.

"Yes, I wouldn't say it if it wasn't true," she responded.

"Okay," he slowly backed out of the room, "Night, Granger." He closed the door behind him and the silence was deafening.

She quickly changed into the pajamas left by the house elves. Hermione tugged at it awkwardly. They left black silk shorts and a black silk button up pajama top. She had never been in the same room as so much silk fabric.

Hermione sank into the bed, not even having the energy to get under the voluminous duvet. She didn't even remember falling asleep.

...

Draco pushed the door open as stealthily as he could. He peered into the dark room and let his eyes adjust to the lack of light. He slipped in and closed the door behind him. Muttering a quick spell to light a candle on the bed stand he approached where Hermione lay.

She was fast asleep, a peaceful expression on her face. She lay on her back with arms stretched above her head. The silky material of her shirt edged up over her belly and the skin it exposed looked soft enough to rival the silk. His eyes travelled up and he saw the curve of her breasts perfectly outlined by her top, the button that closed the shirt across her chest was slightly strained with every breath she took. He longed to reach down and rip the button off.

Draco suddenly felt very dirty standing over her and leering at her sleeping form, he reached out and gently pushed a stray lock of hair out of her face. She nuzzled her face into his outstretched hand sleepily.

He sat at the edge of the bed, the sinking of the bed caused her to roll into him slightly.

"I'm sorry for bringing you here," he whispered into the darkness of the room.

"S'nothing," she murmured and reached up to take his hand instinctively. He was suddenly overcome with the feeling that he didn't deserve her understanding and kindness. "Lay with me," she invited in her half sleeping state.

He kicked off his shoes and undid his tie and belt, discarding them on the floor. He lay next to her atop the duvet and faced her, their knees barely brushing as she turned towards him. The sleepy smile she gave him made him feel so unworthy.

"I like waking up to see you," she whispered and her sleepy state seemed to give her a drunken euphoria.

He smiled at her and reached out to lay a hand tentatively on her hip. Her eyes drifted closed again, enjoying the sensation of his touch.

His self loathing was threatening to consume him in that moment. He didn't deserve her trust and affection. She looked so... ready to give herself to him. He felt his chest constrict wth disgust for himself. Maybe she should be with Weasley, at least he wasn't the scum of wizarding society.

"You're gorgeous," he murmured and ran his hand up her side, he pushed up the silk fabric and smoothed his hand over her stomach, his thumb just barely brushing across the underside of her breast. She sighed and arched toward him.

"God, these fucking night clothes. It's almost like my mother is doing this on purpose," he chuckled and she snuggled closer to him. Her body fit so comfortably against his. He wrapped both arms around her and held her to his chest tightly.

"I promise I'll never bring you here again," he said into the top of her head.

"Nonsense," she responded, "we are friends, friends visit each other's houses."

"Yeah but most friends don't let their friends get tortured in their living room," he responded dryly. The situation was so absurd she let out a soft laugh.

"That's true," she said. "You didn't let anything happen, Draco. We've been over this. I don't blame you." She slipped her arm around his waste and ran her fingers over his back, she played with his shirt and pulled it from its position tucked into his pants. She leaned back away from him to start undoing the buttons on his shirt.

"What are you doing, Granger," he said as he sucked in a breath when her delicate fingers swept over the skin beneath his shirt as she got those pesky buttons out of the way.

She stopped what she was doing and looked away. "Oh, so its Granger now?"

"You know what I mean," he responded exasperatedly. "This isn't right... you're in a vulnerable state."

Her eyes snapped back onto him and she looked incensed.

"Vulnerable? I'm perfectly fine. If you don't want to do this, just say. Don't try to make up an excuse," she hissed, sliding away from him.

"You know what I mean," he kept a hold on her so she couldn't get away. "I've taken you back to the sight of your torture today. I didn't think you would be so eager to fuck one of your torturers."

At that, she looked livid. She put her hands firmly on his chest and pushed him so hard he almost fell out of the bed.

"Let go of me right now, I'm leaving," she snapped.

"Don't be an idiot, it's the middle of the night," he tried to get a grip on her.

"I don't care, I don't want to be anywhere near you for another second. You are a real piece of work," she was practically punching him in the chest in her effort to free herself. His arms might have been made of iron for all the good it was doing her.

"I'm sorry if I've offended you, but you need to calm down!"

"Oh you've offended me alright," she began to try and get her leg up to kick him but he held her closer to him to restrain her. "If all you can think of yourself as is one of my bloody torturers, then you are delusional. If you still can't see after all this time that I bloody care about you then you are beyond help." Tears were welling up in her eyes and she sagged in his arms, giving up her struggle to get away from him. He loosened his hold on her, unsure if he should comfort her or give her space.

They sat in a heavy silence, the only sound were her sniffles and his heavy breathing.

"I have feelings for you," she said in such a small and quiet voice that he could have convinced himself he imagined it. He didn't respond and she looked up at him, her face outlined in the soft candlelight.

He bent down and took her mouth with his, trying to say everything with the kiss that he was unable to say with words. She responded hesitantly, accepting his probing tongue into her mouth.

She reached up to push his shirt off his shoulders and they broke apart for a minute to discard the shirt. He quickly descended on her again with a feral look in his eyes. He flipped her onto her back and pushed her into the bedding with his body on top of hers. He slipped his knee between her thighs to spread her legs and she moaned, lifting her hips up to meet his.

He expertly undid the buttons of her pajama top with one hand and grasped her hip with the other. As soon as the buttons were undone he sat back to admire her. He ever so gently pushed the shirt open and exposed the breasts he had been fantasizing about ever since he saw her prone and sleeping form. He looked up to her face expecting to see her still angry, or hesitant, or anything but the fiery and passionate look she was giving him.

She reached out and undid his pants, he quickly discarding them along with his briefs and she grasped his cock without hesitation. A strangled sound escaped from his throat and he descended on her with a crushing kiss. She rolled her hips into him and the silky material of her shorts against his member nearly sent him over the edge. He tugged her shorts quickly down and she wrapped her legs around him, eager to feel him inside of her.

He slipped inside of her smoothly as if they had done this a thousand times before and they quickly found their rhythm. She clutched at his back from beneath him, running her fingers roughly over the taut muscles.

He attempted to restrain himself and take it slow, pumping in and out of her at an excruciating pace but she bucked her hips up at him eagerly and he lost control.

He grasped her hips and rolled onto his back, pulling her with him so she was now on top. She gasped and quickly accepted the new position, grinding herself on top of him.

"I want to watch you," he murmured, running his hands over her hips and stomach as she arched her back and rocked back and forth. The sight of her on top of him with his cock fully buried in her was going to be the undoing of him.

She grasped his thighs as she raised herself up and slid down on his length. slowly at first, then building a steady speed. She leaned back in order to achieve the perfect angle and soon she felt a building pleasure in her belly. Her pace increased and he held her hips to steady her shakey rhythm.

He slipped a hand across her front and she felt his thumb working over her sensitive nub as she bounced on his dick. A few moments of that and she was spiraling over the edge. She ground down on him one last time and shuddered with release muttering his name like a prayer. "Draco, Draco," she murmured and it was more than enough for him. The combination of his name on her lips and her shuddering pussy coming down from her orgasm sent him over the edge after her. He bucked his hips up as he released deep inside of her, grasping her hips so tight he was sure it would bruise.

She collapsed on his chest as his dick began to soften and slip out of her. He wrapped his arms loosely around her waist, not wanting this moment to end. The sound of their heavy breathing filled the room and she longed for him to say something. To acknowledge what she had said earlier.

She kissed his neck, soft delicate kisses that were no more than brushing her lips softly against his skin. He savored the feeling of her naked form on top of him, showering him with affection.

"I care for you," kiss, "I have feelings for you," kiss, "you can't tell me you don't feel this," kiss.

He stopped her gently and grasped her shoulders to push her back and look at her face.

"Of course I fucking feel it, and it scares me," he said, trying to keep his voice calm. "After all those years of hating you, god, its almost like I hated you so much that now that I don't the only option is to feel the exact opposite."

Her heart skipped a beat at what he was implying.

"But I can't," he hissed. "Don't you understand? I can't feel anything for you, it's just impossible, I would only hurt you and cause you pain. I'm... incapable... of caring for someone else."

She stared at him, her heart hammering in her chest. What was he saying?

"We have to stop this. Now. Before I hurt you," he said softly.

"Why don't you let me look after myself, Draco. I know what I want. I want you. And keeping me from you is only going to hurt both of us," she replied back hotly.

He closed his eyes and sighed, he gently let her slide off of him to the side and he extracted himself from the bed.

"This was all a mistake, I shouldn't have let it go this far. But you're so god damn irresistible," he groped in the dark looking for his briefs and pants.

"Then stop trying to resist," she sat up and reached for him, find his forearm in the dark. She saw that she was holding his dark mark. "I thought that we agreed we are friends?"

"We both know we can't be friends," he responded with a humorless laugh and shook her off. "We clearly can't be trusted to be alone with each other for five seconds without fucking each others brains out."

"Then lets be more than friends?" she suggested.

"No," he said firmly. "I don't think I even have the capacity. You deserve someone... who can care for you back."

"Why are you doing this, Draco? You are being daft. I know you care for me." She rose from the bed to stop him from resuming getting dressed. He already had his pants up around his waist and he was working on fastening them.

"Well then, you're wrong, aren't you?" he shook her off again and grabbed his shirt, making for the door. He would do anything to stop her from looking at him with those big doe eyes. God, why was she making this so difficult? Couldn't she see that he was doing this for her own sake? "Is this the first time you've ever been wrong about anything?

She stood there, shocked. She didn't even try to cover herself as she stumbled back to grasp a bed post to steady herself.

"Granger, I'm a selfish asshole, I wanted you, so I took you. But now I see that you can't have relations like this without falling in love," he said the word 'love' so mockingly that her eyes stung harshly with tears that threatened to spill over at any second. "There is no one to blame but myself, so try to calm down and get some sleep. I'll escort you back to the castle in the morning."

Before she had the chance to stop him again he quickly exited the room. As soon as he made it into his room across the hall he magically locked the door and cast a silencing charm. He dropped his shirt on the floor and grabbed the object nearest the door, a candlestick, and flung it across the room violently. He stumbled to the bathroom in a haze and grasped the edge of the sink, barely able to face himself in the mirror.

How could she have feelings for him? He took her back to the place where she and her friends where nearly killed. The place where she was mutilated. And it wasn't just any place, it is his fucking house. He reached out and slammed his fist into the mirror, shattering his reflection. He sank to the floor, shaking. His hand was gushing blood but he made no move to stop it. He resolved to bring out his stash of firewhiskey and try not to feel anything for the rest of the night.


	16. Chapter 16 - Realization

She didn't talk to him the next morning. In fact, she didn't talk to him for the rest of the school year. He escorted her back to the castle in the morning in dead silence, he made up some excuse to his mother about how they couldn't stay for breakfast and they were back at the castle by early morning. They both continued about their business with her steadfastly ignoring his existence.

He thought about apologizing to her, reaching out to her, on that long walk back from Hogsmead but he continued to remind himself that it was for the best. She walked beside him with her chin held high as if to prove to him how she wasn't going to let this affect her.

Days turned into weeks and the time to make amends was too far gone. Every potions lesson he stared fixedly at the side of her head and she kept her gaze resolutely on the front of the room or on the potion in front of her.

Both of them avoided the library like the plague, neither of them could really claim it as their own territory so they came to an unspoken decision that it should be left to no one.

One day in the spring they ran into each other at the supply table during a potions lesson. She reached out for the grindylow scales and he couldn't stop himself from reaching out and brushing his fingers over her knuckles. She snatched her hand away and turned on her heel to rush back to her desk. His heart sank to the bottom of his chest and somehow the distance between them didn't do anything to assuage his self loathing.

Time passed excruciatingly slow. He didn't correspond with his mother and he cut himself off from the rest of the world. Eventually the ministry dropped their investigation of him, coming up with no suitable evidence to charge him with anything. There were several more trips to the ministry for questioning, the trips were excruciating without her beside him. He even saw the Weasel from a distance on one trip and the insufferable prat just smirked at him, perhaps he heard that he was no longer on good terms with Hermione. Or perhaps they had gotten back together, he couldn't stand that thought so he did his best to put it out of his mind.

He resolved to live out the rest of the year in self inflicted solitude and he almost achieved his goal.

One particularly lonely night he tore into a bottle of firewhiskey he kept stashed under his bed in case of emergencies. He lay in his bed with his curtains drawn, sweat gathering on his brow. He thought of their last night together, in Malfoy Manor, how she took her pleasure from him with no inhibitions. How she trusted him completely not to hurt her and he threw it back in her face.

His cock stirred at the thought of her atop him and he reached down into his waistband to relieve himself of the strain for what felt like the thousandth time since they parted ways. After a minute of stroking himself, he stopped. He felt hollow, there was no use and this wasn't going to help.

He shoved back his curtains and sat up abruptly, startling the other Slytherin boy who was quietly working on his homework.

"Out," he commanded, and the boy scampered off with his books already in his arms.

Draco stalked out of bed and threw on a t-shirt. His sweat smelled of alcohol and caused his shirt to stick to his chest. He walked out of the room as steadily as he could and found the nameless sixth year he took to the Yule Ball. She sat curled up by the fireplace, engrossed in her studying. He supposed she was quite pretty with her pale skin and dark hair. She had vivid almond shaped blue eyes surrounded by thick black lashes. He couldn't remember her name for the life of him, but that didn't matter now.

"Join me up in my quarters?" he whispered in her ear. She nearly knocked her head against his chin as she jumped in surprise at the sound of his voice in her ear. When she saw it was Draco she dropped her book and smiled.

"I thought you would never ask," she purred back at him and stood to follow him up to the seventh year boy's dormitory.

He guided her over to his bed and cast a quick locking charm on the door so they wouldn't be disturbed.

She sat on the edge of his bed and wantonly began to unbutton her school blouse. She looked up at him with hungry eyes and parted lips. She slid off her shirt revealing an expanse of pale skin and a light pink bra. He observed her with a neutral expression from his spot two feet away from her.

"Now the bra," he commanded casually, leaning against a bed post of one of his classmates.

She reached behind her back and unhooked her bra, letting it fall in front of her. Her breasts were larger than Hermione's, he observed. Very full and voluptuous.

"The skirt," he indicated her pleated school skirt. She obediently stood and slipped out of it smoothly. She was left standing in her stockings with dark colored thong underwear underneath.

"Do you like what you see?" she asked playfully and brought her hands up to grasp her own breasts.

"How can I be sure, if you're hiding it from me? The stockings and underwear next," he said, voice impassive.

She obeyed and rolled the stockings down her legs, the thong quickly followed and joined the rest of her clothes on the floor. She stood before him stark naked and he found much to his chagrin that his cock was not responding as he had anticipated. She was beautiful in the traditional sense of the word, but somehow she was lacking.

He stepped towards her and she looked up at him in anticipation. He reached out and grabbed her by the waist, slid his hands down over her buttocks and hoisting her up to sit on his bedside table. She giggled and wrapped her legs around him eagerly. He closed his eyes and tried to remember every detail of his first night with Hermione in the supply closet after the ball.

He leaned down and kissed her, sliding a hand up to fondle her breasts. Her mouth was wet and eager, suckling at his lip and battling his tongue. He squeezed his eyes shut tighter but no matter how hard he tried, she didn't feel anything close to Hermione. Her skin was soft but felt almost heavy with moisturizers and perfumed oils that she slathered herself in. Her breasts were soft and lovely but didn't compare to Hermione's perfectly shaped mounds.

Draco allowed her to wantonly grind her hips into his, and he swiftly undid his pants, trying to quickly stroke his cock hard to at least get started. His manhood didn't stir in response. She smiled demurely and pushed him back to drop to her knees in front of him. She took him in her mouth and sucked, gently at first and then more vigorously. He buried his hands in her straight and sleek hair, cursing it for not being more curly and unkempt.

Soon he found himself responding and hardening and with a grunt he hauled her up and pushed her down onto the bed to quickly get inside of her before losing it. He flipped her over so as to not see her face and grasped her hips to pull her up to accept him. He guided his cock to her sopping wet entrance and he found that he was already soft in his own hand.

He let out a stream of curses and dropped her back down onto the mattress. She turned over to look at him nervously.

"Draco?" she questioned. "Is there something else you need me to do?"

"Yes actually," he hissed. "Get. Out." He quickly grabbed his pants and pulled them up over his hips.

She blushed furiously and began to gather her clothes.

"Now!" he roared as she had barely pulled up her skirt. He began pushing her towards the exit and wrenched open the door to the corridor before she even had time to put on her shirt.

"If you ever, and I mean ever, tell anyone about this - I will kill you," he threatened her in a low and deadly voice. She gulped and nodded as he slammed the door in her face.

...

The last time he saw Hermione before they graduated was after their potions final. They both finished at the same time and the proctor came to collect and bottle their potions.

Hermione gathered up her books to make a quick exit before they could run into each other. Something overcame Draco and he followed her out quickly, not giving her the chance to get away.

"Granger," he called out to her, she was fifteen meters in front of him in an empty hallway. Her hair was more frizzy than usual from the steam of the potion room and her face was flushed. Her perfect pink lips formed a straight line on her face, indicating her irritation with him.

"Yes, Malfoy?" she said in a cold and expressionless voice. "Is there something you wanted to say to me?"

"No... just, good luck. With everything, after graduation, you know," he stammered awkwardly and he wished he had never tried to get her attention at all.

"Good luck to you as well," she responded back hollowly and he knew that she didn't mean it at all. She turned to rush off back to Gryffindor tower to pack up her things and leave behind this year forever.

He released a breath he felt like he had been holding for the past two hours in the exam room and he suddenly felt more empty than ever. He might never see her again. She certainly would take all the necessary steps to avoid him.

...

August found Draco in the french countryside sitting stiffly in a folding lawn chair and watching his friend Adrian profess his vows to his new bride Daphne Greengrass.

He squirmed in his dress robes, the summer sun beating ruthlessly down on all the wedding guests. He glanced at his mother sitting elegantly beside him in her best light lilac dress robes and looking as composed as ever. He tried to emulate her but he knew that he just ended up with a sour expression on his face. The empty chair next to her was reserved for his father, but he still had yet to show his face since he had gone into hiding and neither of them had seen or heard from him.

Draco did his best to keep his gaze on the bride, groom, and officiant. He let his eyes slip over to Pansy once or twice as she stood elegantly in the lineup of prim and poised bridesmaids. They all wore deep green gowns with silver beaded detail on the bodices. Draco had trouble restraining himself from rolling his eyes at the Slytherin pride that was prominently on display.

As the wedding wound down Draco thought of a million ways to avoid Pansy at the reception. He considered leaving early altogether and later writing an owl to Adrian that he had to recuse himself due to an illness. His mother, as if reading his mind, gave him a knowing look that clearly read 'I'll see you at the reception' as the wedding was concluded and she flitted off to catch up with her old friends.

Draco stood awkwardly as the guests filtered out of the ceremony area and made their way down the hill to the tent that was set up next to the vineyard.

He saw Pansy looking at him and he knew it was time to face the music.

"Pansy," he greeted her as kindly as he could, she looked at him impassively. "Do you have time to talk before the reception?"

"Yes, Draco, lets go for a walk," she acquiesced and extended her arm for him to guide her. He hesitantly accepted it and he felt his skin crawl, she must be ready to kill him at any moment.

"Are you sure I'm not keeping you from your bridesmaid duties?" he asked politely.

"No, not at all," she said and they walked down a nearby path in silence.

Soon they were far enough from the rest of the wedding to have some privacy at the edge of the orchard. She smoothed her gown and seated herself on a nearby rock. Her dark eyes looked up at him expectantly, waiting for him to say his part.

"I'm..." he started and his voice seemed to catch in his throat. "I'm sorry," he finished.

"Sorry?" she hissed. "Sorry for what? For not talking to me for over a year? For not reaching out to see if I was okay? For not showing any concern for one of your best friends of six years and just tossing me aside like I was nothing to you as soon as the war ended?" She folded her hands in her lap, trying to maintain her composure as she waited for his response.

"Pansy-" he began but she cut him off.

"No, Draco. We both went through hell under his rule and I thought we could be adults about this. Instead you run away to Hogwarts and don't even so much as send me an owl to let me know you're okay. If you remember, I reach out to you! I fucking put myself out there after the war, I came to your house to talk to you and you hid in your room!"

"I was ashamed," he croaked, "of what the dark lord made me do to you. I thought you would never want to look at my face again."

"Well I would've thought you could let me make that decision for myself," she stood abruptly and walked over to him, she didn't hold his hand as Hermione would have but then Slytherins were never the type for displays of affection. "I wanted to get past everything, together. We were friends. I thought we could at least rely on each other to understand what we went through under that monster's thumb. I can never forgive you for abandoning me."

"I thought you wouldn't be able to forgive me, for what happened," he looked at her face searchingly.

"There is nothing to forgive in regards to that night," she admonished. "You think I would have rather you protested and instead of being raped have the dead body of one of my closest friends dropped in my lap? Don't be a fool, Draco. We all did what we had to in order to survive that year."

"God, Pans, I'm so sorry," he clenched his fists at his side, "I just... I can't even stand to see my reflection in the mirror."

"Good," she snapped, "you should feel like an ass for abandoning me. But not for what he forced you to do. You don't even know what I've been through this past year!"

"Please, talk to me now. I'm hear now," he begged her.

"I got pregnant," she blurted and he could tell instantly that she wasn't planning on telling him that. His stomach felt like it caved in on itself and his vision began swimming as if he was about to pass out.

"Pregnant?" he choked out. "From..." he couldn't finish the thought.

"Impossible to know," she admitted. "The dark lord had me raped several times that week actually. It could have been anyone's. I'm sure there were several times I didn't perform a contraceptive charm, I wasn't exactly in a good frame of mind."

Draco gripped a nearby tree for support. Was that why she fled to France? To have a baby in secret away from the prying eyes of wizarding society?

"Where is... the baby?" he asked in a low voice and his eyes locked onto her face.

"I got rid of it," she said stoically. He felt a small weight of his shoulders and he hated himself even more than he had before for being so selfish as to be glad she never had the baby. "I needed you Draco, I needed a friend to help me through that time. I had to abort my baby on the bathroom floor, alone." Her voice was wavering now and he saw tears swell in her eyes.

"Pansy," he whispered and reached out to pull her into a tight embrace as she broke down. "I'm so sorry," he murmured into the top of her head and gripped her so firmly he thought she would fall apart in his arms. "Please forgive me, I'll do anything."

"Just don't walk away again, we need to stick together. All of us who suffered by his hand." She clutched his arms as tears continued to pour out of her eyes.

"Never, I promise we will keep in touch. If you need anything from me, I'll be there," he stroked her hair soothingly and she gathered her composure. He handed her a handkerchief to dry her eyes and she mopped away the excess mascara from her cheeks.

"I will hold you to that," she responded as she had finally restored her put together appearance. "Lets return to the party before anyone notices we've been gone for too long."

"Yes, of course," he led her down towards the reception and he felt lighter, as if the thing he had been dreading for so long was finally done and he could start the next chapter of his life. Maybe his fatal flaw was running away and not facing his problems head on like a man. Maybe he was worse than his father, how was his hiding any different from Draco's withdrawal?

He spent the rest of the evening catching up with old friends and finding out how they had all chosen to rebuild their lives after the war. He felt deeply ashamed that he had gone into hiding from his old life. Seeing how everyone else was able to move on and begin to build a life allowed a small bloom of hope to develop in the back of his mind.

...

Rain battered the quiet London street as Draco apparated at the corner of a row of neat townhouses. He had just wandered around Diagon Alley for an hour looking for Ginny Weasley who he had heard was working at that god awful Weasley joke shop with her brother George. The shop was closed but after a few minutes of him pounding on the door, she answered with a haughty attitude. After what felt like a century of begging she conceded and gave him Hermione's new address in London.

His dress robes were soaked through but he didn't even bother performing a charm to keep himself dry, this was his penance. The street was covered out the wazoo with anti-apparition and anti-dark magic charms that he was able to find the place at all. He walked quickly down the lane, searching every home front for the house number that Ginny had given him.

When he finally got to the correct house he stood outside in the rain for a few minutes, his stomach turning over. Somehow this was harder than facing Pansy.

He approached the door and reached up to the doorbell, his finger hovering there for a moment before pressing it with purpose. He heard laughter and foot steps inside and his stomach clenched at the thought that she wasn't alone in there.

The door whipped open and Hermione stood there, the ghost of her smile from a moment ago still on her face. She was in a fluffy burgundy knee length robe and her hair was wet from a shower and piled in a loose bun on top of her head, reminiscent of how she used to wear it during their long hours in the library together. He saw a bead of moisture from her wet hair rolling down her neck and pooling in the small recess above her collar bone. Suddenly everything he came here to say and profess flew out of his mind and he said the first thing that came to his mind.

"Hermione," he breathed. "I love you."

...

 **Cliffhanger! Thanks for all the positive feedback, you readers are great. Leave a review xo**


	17. Chapter 17 - Knowing

"Hermione," he breathed. "I love you."

It took her brain more than a moment to catch up with the information that it was receiving. Draco Malfoy stood in front of her, soaked to the bone, in extraordinarily fine dress robes, professing his love for her. He leaned forward and gripped her door frame for support and she shuffled a step backwards, reacting to his proximity. This was certainly the last thing she expected on a quiet Saturday night in.

He reached out tentatively and touched her cheek, brushing away a thick wet lock of hair that stuck to her lightly freckled skin.

"I-" she started but was cut off when another presence entered the small hallway.

"'Mione, who is it? I'm about to heat up dinner..." Neville Longbottom trailed off as he looked up from the _Herbology Today_ magazine he had folded over in his hands and saw who Hermione was talking to. "Blimey," was all he said in reaction to a sopping wet Draco.

Draco's heart sank into his stomach and he looked from Neville to Hermione. Their casual appearance, Neville making dinner, Hermione living with him. He was too late. He rejected her, let her get away, now he was paying the price. He wondered how long they had been together now. He tried to push the thought of them fucking out of his mind as bile rose in the back of his throat.

Did they live the perfect cookie cutter life that he always envisioned Hermione would want? Did they sit together on the couch reading after dinner with her mangy, disgusting cat curled up at their feet?

The sound of blood rushing into his ears made Draco deaf for a moment and he released the door frame, stumbling backwards down the steps awkwardly. Hermione just watched him, her eyes wide and still taking in the scene playing out in front of her.

"I... I'm sorry. I shouldn't have come." He straightened his sodden dress robes and turned quickly, longing for his feet to carry him to the apparation point as quickly as possible. He cursed that Weasley bitch for not warning him what he was walking into. She probably thought it served him right for ditching Hermione.

He thought he might have heard Longbottom question Hermione as he retreated down the street. "What was Draco Malfoy doing showing up here? Why was he so soaked?"

It all suddenly caught up to Hermione in a great whoosh of acceptance and she brushed off Neville's questions and darted out into the night after Draco.

Her bath robe quickly became sopping wet from the downpour and her terry cloth slippers barely stood a chance against the wet concrete. She kicked them off and they flew haphazardly into her neighbor's perfectly manicured lawn and sped up to catch Draco.

"Draco!" she called, trying to get him to slow down and turn to face her.

"I'm sorry," he stopped, a little out of breath, and turned back to her, he knew he was only a few meters from the apparation point at the end of the block. She stopped, two house lengths away from him. "I really shouldn't have come here, I just... needed to see you."

She tried to walk towards him but he backed up, almost near the spot where he had appeared on the street only a few moments ago.

"Draco, wait," she panted, swiping water from out of her eyes, "come inside, let's talk."

"No, that really isn't necessary," he put his hands out to try and suggest that she should stop her forward advancement. "I wouldn't want to intrude on you... and Longbottom," he tried to say his name without malice but he knew he failed.

"Intrude?" she looked quizzical for a second and realization dawned. "Oh no, Draco, I just live with Neville."

"That much was obvious," he said blankly.

"I mean I live with Neville and Luna - his fiancée. I just live with them while I get on my feet after school. But now they are engaged, I'll probably be moving out soon," she explained from across the distance between them.

Draco examined her for a minute as if to evaluate the truth of this.

"So you aren't with him?"

"No! I haven't been with anyone since..." she trailed off. He walked towards her with purpose.

For a heartbeat she thought he was going to kiss her but he gripped her elbows and she looked up into his face, rain droplets still streaming over his pale skin.

"I love you," he said fiercely looking into her eyes, searching her face. "I should have never pushed you away. I've been miserable, a wreck."

She looked back at him, cautiously, as if to determine if this was all an elaborate trick.

"You don't really have a right to come back into my life and say things like that. It took me a while to get over the embarrassment of being rejected while I stood in front of you naked, practically clutching at your feet," she jutted out her chin to cover her embarrassment at re-living that memory.

"I thought pushing you away would be better for you, you wouldn't have the burden of dating death eater scum." He gripped her elbows tighter, a soft squishing sound emitting from the soaked robe. "Of course I've always had feelings for you. Ever since the first time you reached out and squeezed my hand at the ministry, do you remember? I re-live that moment every night in my dreams. Maybe my feelings even started sooner than that, but that is the first time I was willing to admit it to myself."

"Of course I remember," she said and she didn't back away as he stepped closer.

"When I saw you in that sinful dress the night of the Victory ball out in the garden, I knew. You looked flushed and gorgeous and I knew I was in deep," his face was close to hers now. "When we had sex the first time I thought it was too good to be true, that you would sober up as soon it was over and run away screaming."

"I told you I wanted it," she defended. "When are you going to learn that you don't need to make decisions or have regrets on my behalf?"

"I'm a slow learner," he admitted and a small smile flitted over his face as he descended on her. She tilted her head up to accept the kiss and his lips brushed over hers and then pressed more firmly. She parted her lips to accept the kiss and threw her arms around his neck. He slipped his hands around her waist and lifted her bare feet of the ground.

He carried her back towards her house and she quickly wrapped her legs around him. He supported her bum as she fit into him like a puzzle piece.

"I'm assuming you have your own room in this shack?" he said between kisses and she nodded vigorously and trailed kisses over his jaw. He groaned and clutched her tighter. "Good, we will be needing it."

...

 **The end. Thanks for the positive feedback and I hope it wasn't too shabby for my first fanfic. Leave a review!**

 **Recommendations for other HP pairings you guys would like to see? I'm also thinking of doing an ASOIAF fic next, pairing ideas? Sansan? Jamie/Brienne?**


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